Hybrid
by plink
Summary: NCZero fic, AU to the Rare Hertz Saga. Bit and Leena finally get to go on their date...but it will all end in tears. Harry's tears. And possibly Mute's tears of laughter. And Brad's of shame. Well, they asked for it...(Updated at long last!)
1. Zero Don't wake the dead

Hey everyone. Things have been really slow from me recently, but then again I have a lot of work on my plate, so don't expect too much from me. This tale was primarily inspired by two things, one being the obvious, Zinou's Element of One fiction, and second (would you believe) Princess Tutu, which I hope gets a local release, because Mythos is so cool. Or Mute. Whichever you prefer. He inspired the character from this fic, but I assure you, MY Mute is definitely not a character from a book brought to life by magic, nor does he lack feeling. He has a lot of feelings, and is probably wondering why the voices in his head won't shut up ^^ Anyway, I don't know if I'll be able to finish this one, so please give me a prod or two now and then, and we'll see where things go. Rating will go up as violence and psychosis comes into it, and maybe the insinuated love scene or two. I know you B/L fans. The Br/N fans too. 

_Oh god, I can't believe I just wrote that!_

_Anyway, this is for Zinou who has kindly beta'd for me, DarkSpiner, who is so B/L it's scary and makes me laugh some times, the almighty Sh33p, who will no doubt hunt me down and kill me, and lastly Duo/Biowolf, who will also hunt me down and kill me. I don't mind, nor do I care much…this is too much fun…^^_****

**Prologue**: Don't wake the dead

The sun _burned_.

For Hammond Altile, it was only a minor annoyance as he went about his job in the excavations, carefully guiding those who worked beneath him to unveil the complex in front of him. It was obviously old Empire in origin – after all, he was standing in the site where Guygolos had been before it's untimely destruction. Perhaps, he reflected, the people had thought the world was ending. And four hundred years ago, people were like that, superstitious, careful, worried. They had every reason to be. 

But no matter. The world was a safe place, the world was _controlled_. In only a few days since the Gold Cup, the members of BackDRAFT had been either sentenced to death or put in prison for life. Either way, you were screwed. My, hadn't life come far?

In the end, _he_ hadn't been screwed over, and in reality, that was all that mattered. There were a number of pilots – good pilots – who had come through unscathed, too…People like Stigma Stoller, Pierce Granger, Luis Sanders, Claude Polta…his friends. All good Zoid warriors, who somehow managed to escape the long arm of the law, as stupid and outdated as it was. Sanders and Stoller were off getting ready for the next round of battles, organising a team to start running. Pierce…oh, where was she again? Up North, investigating a job opportunity in the ZBC, that was it…and Polta…

"Uhh, Sir!"

Polta was a good man. Really he was. Altile just wished he'd stop being so damn apologetic all the time. The dark haired man ran up to him in the strangely youthful way he always did, and paused for a moment, bent over, panting heavily, before brightening.

"What is it, Polta?" Asked Altile, gently.

"…Nothing, except…we think…we've found the…entrance way."

"Excellent. Are we going in then?"

"Yeah, but…we're waiting for you…"

"All right. Let's go then."

Hard to believe the man ever became a Zoid pilot. Few knew the truth about Polta – the man was almost completely blind. Born without a rare disease known as the Licten Disorder, Polta's eyes were naturally coloured a pale, pale orange, and going out in the light undiagnosed as a child had let to him damaging his eyes to the point where he couldn't see at all during the day. Within the dark he seemed to have an edge over everyone else, and working carefully, BackDRAFT had actually helped him by creating his visor – the only thing that allowed him to see light in the form of electrical fields. Polta always wore it now, but during the night when he was in close company he'd take it off and walk the night alone. Any kind of light…except maybe moonlight…hurt him. But on more than one occasion, Altile had heard him mention something about 'dark light' and how it reflected things in the darkness…the only way he could truly see.

The fact he had become a Zoid pilot meant he was _really_ good. Not only did the visor pick up electrical signals and display the picture to him on the visor, but his sense of touch and reflexes were heightened, and it had a direct link with the Zoids he used, plugging perfectly into their sensory system. He was young, much younger than he ever let on, and not hampered at _all_ by his disability.

Altile ducked into the tents they had set up to shield the diggers and the smaller, fragile Zoids they used to dig away the rubble.

"I want a report." He asked, catching up to Polta's spindly form.

"You were right about this being Imperial in origin. This facility was probably here the same time the city was destroyed. Are we talking the DeathSaurer here, boss?" 

"No, this happened around ten years after that monster was put to sleep…permanently…around the same time Ultimate Xs were supposedly made. Not too many of the old stories really exist now…people just wanted to forget." Altile touched the stone surface. It was a doorway, that was for sure, dark, oppressive, but through time there still remained one pure thing – the insignia over the door, the dragon curled around the sword, it's wings outstretched, mouth open, snarling. For a moment, he held his breath, unsure to dream than possibly, quite possibly, they had unearthed the lab of the esteemed Doctor Thomas Richard Shubaltz, said to have been buried under the debris. But that was impossible – the lab was shut down and destroyed, completely. He'd studied the maps that still existed, mapping out the city, and the locations as to where the lab may have been. It was said that Shubaltz had pioneered the Ultimate X system, using ancient Zoidian technology, and even…even cloned organoids. Organoids had once been legend – so much information had been lost in those terrible dark times, but there had been reports of wild ones far North, apart from the odd domestic one. Shubaltz probably let them all go or something.

"Ahh…how I wish I could have met him…"

"He was one of the warriors who helped defeat the DeathSaurer, right?" Polta asked, rubbing his arms. While it was warm beneath the tarp, there was a chill there, a chill that went into the bones.

"Actually no, he wasn't, but he was one of the support team. He's very revered in the circles of science. But he was known to do a few black ops projects too…and that's what we're looking for. Okay boys, let's start here…"

They both took a step back as the Demantis lurched forward and started to dig, carefully removing the rubble left that held up the door. The old metal panel was scratched and dented, but still stood, immune to whatever had been thrown at it. If records were correct, it was nothing short of a shot from the Gravity Cannon, or perhaps a neutron bomb. The original UltraSaurus had been cloned several times by the Helic manufacturers, and that was what the ZBC used as their monitoring force. The original one had been destroyed by some unknown force and left to rot in the desert and funnily enough, the same desert that the BeserkFURY had met its match in the LigerZERO…there was a coincidence there, but he was unable to investigate as of yet. Altile was going to have to go out and examine it after the search was done with _this_ one. He had to hand it to his team – they were a bunch of good guys, as eager as he was to explore the past. Find out what had happened.

But Polta was obviously not as happy about it as he was. "BackDRAFT is gone now…remember the BerserkFURY. We don't want another incident like that…I mean…actual organoids…"

"Don't worry Polta. I _do_ remember _that_ monster." His dark eyes narrowed at the thought of Sara and her bastard son Vega. There were rumours she'd actually killed her husband or something because he was never in the picture, was he? Never around to urge his son on (not that Vega needed any encouragement) Never around in the offices…Sara…Vicious bitch, that one, with an equally slimy little turd as her offspring. "The organoid stuff was part of the black ops project. A number of senators on both sides believed that what he was doing was immoral and wrong, but he had the support of much of the scientific body of both Guylos and Helic. He did succeed, but for some reason shut the facility down…"

"Do you know why?"

"That I don't know. He disappeared after that, as did the other heads of the project."

"Sir!"

"Yes Baz, what is it?"

"We've found something! It's amazing!"

Altile gave Polta a grin and leapt down the embankment and past the pair of Demantis who had been carefully removing the boulders from out of the way. Now that the door was fully exposed, he could see something that was truly unbelievable. The security system was still in place.

Shoulder height, there was a small raised surface that lifted up as he touched it and felt around for the tiny catch that would release it. Scratched and dented, it had withheld the offence of time, and as he looked at it, he realised what he was looking at – a security keypad. 

_If the blast couldn't open the door, then how could we? I bet this thing is charged particle beam proof._

He touched it sadly, dismayed that there was no way in. But as he did so, there was a tiny, almost inaudible beep, and the pad lit up.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph…" He muttered. "This place has power." Slightly louder this time. "This place has _power_!"

The hush spread out over the crowd of assembled men and women, all of which wore the same surprised look on the their face. Beside Altile, Polta gave a little hiss of excitement. The past had always fascinated him as a child and as now as an adult, he had been the first to put up his hand to help Altile in his search for the Ultimate X.

"What kind of lock is it?"

"No key card, it's just a number lock. Could be any number of digits…" Altile sighed. Stuck at another dead end…

Polta shrugged and reached past him. "We can try anything, right? Give me a look."

There was really nothing to loose. The door was proofed against whatever happened then the rest of the facility on ground level would be. The builders were no fools; it was built into the bedrock, far away from any fault lines. In short, this was supposed to be an impregnable fortress. They'd need more than luck to get in here. "Sure."

Feeling around it, the younger man found what he was looking for – the fact that the casing was all in one piece, but the key pad was not, it was set into it and therefore tamper proof if you bombed the place. Patting his pockets for something that might help him, he found his BackDRAFT key card (he still had it? He was _sure_ he'd thrown it away…) and used it to gently lever up the pad, carefully pulling it off. Electronics had always fascinated him, and he was rewarded with a bright spark from the circuitry, and examined it. Even though it had power, the wires were frayed, old, but…with any luck…

Lightly pulling out the wires he found his heart thumping with excitement. For all his abilities as a Zoid pilot, he'd always felt inferior to his peers thanks to his disability, even with the visor…but now he had the upper hand…the wires were warm, buzzing away against his skin…

"Hold this one…"

"'K…"

"Okay, open sesame…"

There was a burst of sparks, a yelp of pain, and a squeal that went on and on as the metal door came open. Altile slapped his forehead in disgust at his own stupidity – he didn't need luck, did he? Polta was _known_ for his love of electrical things. One of the reasons he'd been brought into BackDRAFT was the naive innocent way he had when it came to opening electronic locks of any kind, a sort of indifference that made him legendary, the thought he wasn't doing anything wrong, just looking at something.

"I knew it. Blast proof. They still make these today. You can't get into them using any machines, and there are no import nodes to plug a hacking device in because it would jeopardise the blast proof thing it has on it. See? It's housed in titanium phalidyde, used in Zoid armour. Set directly into the wall with tiny drilled holes to get the wires in and out of the electrics." Polta's smile grew wider. "So what happens if the boss forgets the PIN? Or one of the buttons gets screwed? You have to lever the top off. They're used so often in government buildings because they're blast proof. Little known fact that you can do it…it's a hairline crack…"

"Sometimes you scare me."

"Sorry boss." 

The gaping hole that faced him was somewhat frightening, as was the smell, or lack of smell as it were. Looking from his crew to the door, Altile stepped inside, and watched in amazement as the lights flicked on, warmed by his body heat. As he walked the lights further down came on and Altile gained more confidence. It was a scientific research lab all right.

But for the excitement that drove him, something else was niggling his consciousness – there was only one tunnel. Heavily fortified, apart from the occasional dent from a fight long ago. It was large enough for humans and small Zoids, but obviously heavy artillery wasn't allowed down here. What _was_ this place?

He almost slammed into the door as he rounded a tight corner, managing to pull up at the last minute. While the outside doors had been oppressive, the corridor lacking dust, any side doors and humanity, this door was simple, metal once more, but covered with spray paint. He only paused for a moment before someone barrelled into him, and both he and Polta fell to the ground. 

"Sorry!"

"Don't worry about it. Just get off me."

"Right. Sorry."

"Polta!"

"Sorry!"

"Damn it, shut UP!!" A pause for breath. "Look at the door."

"Yeah?"

"What does it say?"

"Uh…give me a minute…"

But both read the same thing as they sat up, rubbing knees and elbows that had hit the perforated floor, a chilling phrase that told them that this was no ordinary facility.

"Sounds like religious rubbish if you ask me." 

Altile tried to smile, but his mouth couldn't do it. "These people were very religious, Polta. Not like nowadays, where salvation can be bought for ten quid on a street corner. I think this could be one of the more…hush-hush projects…"

"Ah, boss?" Polta's voice trembled. "I don't think we should be here."

"I don't either. But something is here…can't you feel it?"

The younger man pulled himself up to his feet and dusted his tunic and pants down. "Boss, as soon as that door opened, I felt something come out. I thought I heard voices for a moment…someone talking about something. About…how it was a shame the experiment didn't work…and that…there was little time left…"

"Really?"

"Yeah. I thought it was you, but you don't have a Scottish accent. Do you?"

"No. I don't." Altile rubbed his upper arms, trying to banish the cold. "The facility was bombed."

"No shit." Both men stood very still. "Do we continue?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well, you've studied this stuff…what could be behind it?" Polta asked. "What could be buried here?"

"…any number of things. See the dents back there? Could be an organoid manufacturing plant…could be a new type of Zoid…after all, we found those three GenoSaurers the Fuma Team seem to have run off with in a place similar to this. Hey, is there water beneath us?"

"I guess so. Or something. Don't change the subject."

Altile scratched his chin. "Must be another Zoid."

"You sure?"

"No-o, not really…but we've come this far…"

"Fair enough. I'll get the others."

"Thank you."

And as Polta ran off, leaving Altile to stare at the door, there could only be a feeling of…anticipation…in the air. Of patience. Waiting. Which proves that curiosity may have killed the cat…

…But satisfaction brought it back.

_[In the name of God, Heaven and the Virgin Mary, we clip these wings to silence the dark son and pray he sleeps forever in eternal peace. May God guide his soul to a peaceful rest, and that he will walk in the light once more – amen.]_

~ to be continued.

Sorry for the religious references. Comments and critiques are very welcome… 


	2. One From out of the blue

*pulls up review dialogue box*

@Biowolf: Boredom does lead to strange things. Boredom with every other B/L fic resulted in this! ;p

@Maelgwyn: It's not as bad as it looks. I think you'll get a kick out of it.

@Mark Kallen: Don't count your Pteras before they hatch. It's a B/L pairing, but I never said what it was going to be like. This is me writing here. You were warned.

@Paladin Dragoon: I'll continue as long as inspiration burns. Which may twist and spin, because I have no idea how Mute is going to react to the Blitz Team when he joins. Poor, misunderstood bastard he is…

@Rocke&Roll: Secretly, I'm a godhead, and therefore I'm going to hell because I like writing yaoi. Kidding! Yeah, I go to technical college, but it ends this year. My course that is. Then I ezz goink back to ze mudderland to be wit' my fameelee. My dad actually. In the dark times of life we always seem to turn to religion, so if some nasty-ass demonic _thing_ was attacking your cities and killing your citizens, you'd look to religion too. I think it must be that My Fave Thomas fic I read once…I don't know. Anyway, it was just some random thought, and occasionally I will bring that sort of thing up in this because I have always found religion fascinating. 

Things will move slowly from here…I have to get chapter 2 and 3 to Zinou today to read and review and tell me if I'm a good Plink or a bad Plink, but writing Harry and Vega is fun-fun-fun! Vega fans will probably not like how I depict him, and Harry? The guy's a basket case. Anyway, read on, and, uh, leave a review? Reviews are nice. Helps my battered ego. I also do fan service, so if you want to see something, or a particular fight, then tell me because it helps in inspiration. 

Booyah!****

**Chapter One**: From out of the blue

Things were not doing well, even with the massive win that the Blitz Team had ridden in on almost a month ago. Brad Hunter opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of his room and listened to the screaming down the hall, the same screaming he woke up to every second day.

Every second day…be it a Monday, a Tuesday, hell, even a Sunday, was Leena's bath day. The girl loved showers, to the point of obsession, and it wasn't to get clean either. It couldn't be singing, because Leena had a terrible voice, it couldn't be just because she felt dirty (though Bit did have the greasiest demeanour and often made Brad feel like buying a cheese grater or having a long, scalding shower. Probably the cheese grater, then he _knew_ it would all be gone…) and it wasn't because she was trying to avoid people.

Brad rolled over onto his side, squealed, rolled back and swore very colourfully.

Even if it had been three and a half weeks since the Gold Cup, his entire body was still tender from his tumble as was his beloved ShadowFOX, and both had been licking each other's wounds within the hanger. His Zoid always knew how to cheer him up, and working on him eased the tension he felt with the world around him. Brad wasn't coping well with the fact that a damned rookie had managed to win the stupid competition, and that he, Brad Dante Hunter, had been left in the dust. With a freakin' woman fawning over him. Yeah, Naomi was cool, hot, and damned good beneath the sheets in the horizontal tango, but he was a free man!

Free!

Free, if you counted being stuck in a stupid contract to a madman, forced to work with kids, and having the boss's eldest son looking down at him with a look that said 'one day, I will catch you touching Naomi, and I will have your balls for breakfast.'

And Leon probably could, too.

With a side order of Bit for perving on his beloved little sister.

Sitting up, Brad yawned, looked blearily around the room, and stood up, the sheets falling away from his body, catching on the bandages around his waist. The ruptured kidney he had suffered left an empty space that ached, and the bandage needed changing all the time. It was more than just an annoyance; it was a stupid, horrible thing that he didn't like at all. Cringing as his body complained, he stumbled, found his clothes, and pulled them on, fished around in the drawers beneath his bed for the medical kit the nurses had given him and finding what he was looking for, went outside to wait for the screaming to stop. 

Thankfully Bit and Leena were probably down around the hanger level now, so that meant the bathroom was free – he went inside, frowned at the steam and opened the glazed window to let it all out, then closed the door, locked it, and sat on the sink so he could examine his stitches and fix up the wadding.

It should have healed by now.

He only had one bloody kidney now. A bruised liver and lung, cracked ribs and a twisted wrist, but one kidney. He was half a man now! Half a bloody…

"Ow. OwaaarrrGGHHHAAARRRHHHHH!!!"

He made a mental note not to rip it off like that again. Frowning and scowling at the bloodied bandage he glared at it then flung it away, not caring if it missed the little rubbish bin or not, which it did, and left a mark on the floor. Because Brad refused to relax, the stitches kept getting torn open, and he'd been back to the hospital three times already.

"C'mon…"

The door thumped, and a screeching voice told him Her Majesty was back.

"Who the hell's in there?! Get out!"

Brad hissed through his teeth and started to run the water. At first it was hot from Leena's shower, then began to cool and he dampened the little medical sponge to wash away the fluff from the night before and just clean the damn thing in itself. 

"Jamie, I swear if that's you I'm going to-"

"Leena." Brad yelled. "For Christ's sake, back off, will you?"

"Brad?! _Brad_!!! Get out of there!"

"You left." He clucked his tongue and bit back tears as the sponge snagged. Carefully untangling it he washed it clean and picked up the antiseptic bottle to spray the contents on the ragged line of crimson. "The bathroom is fair game."

"But my clothes are in there!"

"I don't care."

"You insensitive prick!" Leena howled.

Brad rolled his eyes. She was always disagreeable around this time of the month, which was understandable, she was a girl, but if that was the bloody case, then why the hell had she run out after Bit anyway? Yuck!

Unrolling some new wadding, he cut it free, put it over his wound and started to tape it securely so that hopefully, it wouldn't come free again. It would though. They had a battle against a new team, the SharpShooters, so that meant a couple of GunSnipers or SnipeMasters…not good. It was hard enough going up against a single GunSniper (mental note, one in the hands of a professional, not a trigger-happy adrenaline addict) but a _couple_ of them?

Their winning days were _over_.

It was not, he reflected while cleaning up his mess and listening to the melody of Leena's howls, a question of luck anymore, or relying on the obvious skill of the LigerZERO to save their sorry arses. Truth was they'd been riding on _that_ success. And while he was a fine warrior, Brad had the sickening sense of depression creeping up on him that Bit, should he apply himself to the job instead of going off on a tangent and satisfying his own base instincts in battle, could be good. Better than good.

After all, hadn't he beaten Vega?

Disturbed by that thought he pulled his sleeveless T down over his trim form and slid off the bench top, packed up the kit, and went to open the door, only then remembering the bloodied bandage on the floor. Going back, he put it where he belonged, cleaned up the little splatter of blood left behind by it falling and with a cheesy grin on his face slid out of the bathroom and prepared himself for the assault.

It never came. Leena pushed past him, went inside, and began her ranting and raving about being the only female on base, and how all men were chauvinistic pigs. 

Situation normal.

And so, as he went back to his room to put away the medical kit and straighten out the mess he called his room, the intercom clicked on, and from there, Brad's life changed forever.

~*~

_Battle Mode 0988 – Combatants ready…Fight!_

With a jerk the world started to move as the ShadowFOX took off and headed for cover, avoiding the other two on the field, the LigerZERO and the GunSniper and the noise of the pilots both still arguing over the bathroom incident only an hour before. This was one of the modes he couldn't stand, only six damn shots to take out the enemy. Six shots each.

_Make 'em count, Brad._

The words of the Doc hit home. The winning streak had long since been over, they'd fluked one battle, and been creamed in two more, which was probably the reason he hadn't healed yet. S Class was like nothing he'd ever seen before, no wonder few people talked about it. The rules were the same and so were the battle modes, but the fighters? Close to BackDRAFT quality, pulling all sorts of stunts and moves to make a man weep. Being blown up and kicked around was not good for one's health, especially with a Zoid like the ShadowFOX in use and having not quite healed yourself just yet, not at _all_. Besides, the tension between Leena and Bit had been growing recently, and the Doc was obviously really worried. With two hot-blooded non-family males in the house and one introvert obsessed with porn, he was thinking that Leena needed some time away.

Well, so did Brad.

_Shit-shit-shit_…One shot had already been fired, the FOX picking up a lot faster than he ever could have, and ducked away, the lead slug slamming into the sand and kicking up a cloud of dust. A hard swing to the right and he was into the soft darkness of the surrounding forest, sand and forest, earth and stone, sky and –

"Brad!! Watch out!!"

Pulling up quickly, and feeling his body thrown hard against the restraints, Brad caught his breath and hung his head as the LigerZERO took a step back and snorted at him. The rich blue armour of the JAEGER system armour caught his eye for a minute and he sighed. 

"Sorry."

"These guys are good. At least with Naomi there was just one of them."

"Yeah, one who knew what they were doing." Brad flipped his long hair out of his face and opened up the FOX's scanning systems, seeing with a growing sense of dread that there was no way he could find where the bullets were coming from. "Any ideas Bit?"

"Well, I think one of them is in here with us." Bit's baby-clean face screwed up in thought. The boy was so innocent and naive about things, wasn't he? "One of 'em's bound to be up on the bluff and stuff, and…"

"Guys?" A second window opened up on the screen in front of him and Jamie's neurotic features appeared in front of him, his eyes quite wide and worried. Ah, Jamie, the boy with a mental disorder, a ton of guilt from a past life, a nervous disposition, and of all things, their strategist. "We've located two of them…The forest around a half a mile from you…and on the bluff."

Bit snorted, but Jamie wisely ignored him. Most people ignored Bit because of the fact he liked to rub it in as to how much better he was than anyone else on the team, Jamie needed some time to adjust to it all, but was doing quite well with the circumstances. He wiped his nose on his sleeve (aah, childhood) and sighed. "The third is still hidden, and I think it could be a jamming signal they're producing. I isolated the blank area and they should be in the middle."

"This is _cheating_ you know." Brad muttered.

"I know, but how else are we going to win? And why would you care? You're just in it for the money!" Bit grinned. "Hey, where's Leena?"

"I think she's still upset over what you did, Bit." Jamie piped up.

"Then she should lock the damn door." Brad glared at the two younger men and urged the FOX forward, but like him, it felt sluggish and unhappy. 

_We'll just try and pull this off, okay? And then we can rest. I can give you another buff, we can see each other's scars, and you can laugh about a human's fragility…_

The FOX rumbled softly as he began to run again, each step jarring his body and making his insides crawl. This was dangerous.

"Brad! Hey Brad, what are you doing?!"

"Just an idea. A little idea."

The FOX continued it's odd erratic gait swinging left and right, paw over paw. Brad closed his eyes and let his Zoid take control. It was something he was learning to do – the ShadowFOX was perhaps one of the most headstrong Zoids he'd ever met and definitely one of the most curious. He felt the unmistakable feel of power coiling up beneath him, spreading across his gut and making his breathing become tighter, more in control than the ragged gasps he'd been making before.

The FOX sped up.

Two more slugs hit the ground where he'd been a moment before, the strange dodging and weaving pattern painful and quick to his poor insides. A particularly hard jump from the ground to the first rise made his side scream. Those SnipeMasters must have been really desperate to try and catch him moving like this…but then again…

"C'mon."

It was a grunt, barely audible to the human ear, but the FOX moved faster. Each hop and skip was drawing out the enemy as they tried to match him, seeing him as the obvious threat. Maybe then Bit and Leena would see them and kill them, metaphorically of course. Provided they stopped arguing first. Leena must have appeared just after he left, and as if by thinking about her he had made some sort of silent signal to the pink haired firebrand to contact him. The little com screen popped up and her bright eyes regarded him with the kind of animosity Brad had seen in the really dark bars where you bump into someone by mistake, and they turn around, and grab the bottle, smash it against the bar and says… "You gonna pay for that? Or am I going to have to show you what mister bottle can do?" 

She was _pissed_.

"Brad!! You _moron_, what are you _doing_?!"

"Drawin' 'em out, whassit look like?" Another _clunk_. Wow, that was close. Something warm entered his mouth from the wrong direction – his throat. Wow, cool, he was bleeding internally…

"You idiot!!"

"Any _other_ ideas?!" Came the gasped reply.

Leena howled and charged. Gods that girl was a maniac. Brad opened his mouth to shout a retort, but it never came.

Perhaps, if people had been looking at their radars they would have seen it. But they'd been too busy in battle, which was fairly normal. The clouds _had_ been gathering recently, but now something shot through them, a bolt of black and green, with a number of Zabats in hot pursuit.

_Warning! Warning! Unauthorised Zoids in the battlefield! Warning! If you do not leave the designated battle zone you will be destroyed! Warning!_

The pilot of the Redler obviously couldn't hear the judge. It dived, and Brad's breath caught in his throat in a tight sob as the FOX stopped and cowered. It howled over them, the metallic screeching of the Zabats loud in his ears as they came down-

The Redler pulled up.

Going into a corkscrew it shot over the other team who had revealed their hiding places in their surprise and using the tail-blade, neatly sliced the judge in two. If this was on purpose or if it was a mistake Brad wasn't sure but still out of control the Redler swung around and buzzed back, it's wings cutting long lines in the dirt and sand. It knocked over one of the SnipeMasters, turned and went up.

"What the hell is that?!"

"Redler. Piloted by a mad man or doing it on it's own."

"Those are Zabats!"

"Duh." Another sweep and Brad managed to leap out of the way. But not before seeing the pilot. For a moment it was a freezeframe, a moment in time, a youth –

_-There was so much fire and blood. The screaming had long since stopped, but that was on the outside. No, the screaming in his head remained and as he raised his voice to the sky he listened to the echoes of the-_

- sitting with his head lolled to the side, his hands vacant at the controls, knocked out from the sonar blasts he'd been hit with. This kid was powerless to control what was happening, powerless to save himself. But then, it soon became apparent he might not need to.

While the kid was unconscious, the Zoid was obviously not. With a metallic screech, it fought the slack grasp of its owner, and straightened, turned around and headed straight for the oncoming bat like Zoids with a vengeance. As if flipped again, there was little time to escape the onslaught, and three of them fell from the sky, only to be caught by their fellows. Caught by the heavy assault on the ground, the remaining SnipeMasters shrieked and fled, leaving the Blitz Team in shambles as they tried to catch up. It was only when Leena unleashed a full assault on the group of invaders that it seemed to deter them, and the stress eased. Only for a moment however, seeing as the remaining shots took out the SnipeMasters, a few trees, the ShadowFOX and one stupid squirrel, which actually did more good to the species as a whole than harm.

There was a click, a whirr, and a creaking voice saying: _The winner is…the Blitz Team_…_help…please?_

But it was completely ignored.

The Redler, having come to a messy stop against the ancient pine trees creaked softly in the light breeze that had picked up in the silence.

And deep within it's Zoid Core, something opened a glittering green eye…

~ to be continued.

Sorry to the Br/N fans. I will be nicer to the couple in future, but I meant the theme was there, not always the love, okay?


	3. Two: The old family curse

Reviews!!! *shrieks*

@Rocke&Roll: Glad it's amusing you! Writing battles is kinda hard, but it helps when I put music on my head set and start imagining what happens. It tends to get very…explosive, depending what I'm listening to…Anyway, I'm going to try and write more Jamie into future chapters, but unfortunately I haven't actually seen that much of the series to be really, really true to it. But I'm trying. And yes, Redlers rock. The one in the story in particular – it's one of the Eisenbeck Redlers from the old war -_^ *writes down, more Mute/Redler battles, and more Jamie to her list, then gives her a cookie*

@Mark Kallen: Jamie is! An introvert is someone who is not outgoing and is very quiet. The exact opposite of Bit :) More Leena and Bit soon, just be patient…In particular, chapter 4, when Leena decides she's going to try and do something a bit…odd…*gives him a cookie*

@Maelgywn: Brad plays a very big part in this story. Very big. I've already told you his life is going to change, and believe me, it is… *patsCW* Have a cookie sweetie! Both of you in fact! 

@Aardwulf: I'm a very sarcastic person when it comes to the pairings, so just to let you know, this is just me taking the piss. However, I did notice that Jamie has an unhealthy attraction to his Zoid. Mute, the character who will be introduced in the next chapter, is my voice of reason, and the character who addresses all of this with cynicism and sarcasm that is so favourable to his character. I'm glad you're enjoying it – Sometimes I come up against blocks, but then it becomes clear again. I'll try to keep it up, okay? ^^ *cookies! Yum*

@Paladin Dragoon: Hey, it's because I write _all the time_. I was raised on a diet of Terry Pratchett and Tolkien, so it kinda got me thinking…I can do this! I've been writing since I was 11. *tugs her hair thoughtfully* Just keep practising, that's all I can say. As for everything else, thank you very much! I always appreciate the reviews I get, bad or good (keep that in mind people) Actually, the 'half a man' comment is important. I want you to remember that…:)

**Chapter Two**: The old family curse…

He'd been staring at the wall for over an hour with no sign of movement nor actual interest in anything, apart from when the lizard scuttling across it had fallen off and hit the floor with a thunk. It wasn't dead, just stunned, but Vega Obscura had gotten up and trodden on it. It was dead after that. Very dead. No doubt at _all_ it was dead. The blood and guts smear on the expensive carpet was proof. The squelch was satisfying, but his mother screaming at him over the mess he'd made however, _wasn't_ so satisfying. Vega's dark shiny eyes regarded her with a kind of hate reserved for the spoilt little brat style of child, and Vega was as spoilt as they came. Well, he had been. Not any more.

"I'm _bored_ Sara."

He always called his mother by her first name. It was just a quirk with him, but probably due to the fact Sara hadn't actually raised him as a mother would. Oh, she loved him, yes, but he'd been raised by a number of nannies in the massive estate that the Obscura family owned and eventually picked up on the whole 'Miss Sara' thing going around. If he had a father, he didn't know, because as far as anyone else was concerned, Vega was in the belief that his birth had been divine and he didn't have a father. No one bothered to tell him otherwise.

"Honey, please be patient."

"I want to go home _now_."

"Not yet."

"Why?" Such a horrible whiny tone, unbefitting for the boy known as 'The King' on the battlefield. The dreaded question that could go on forever…why, why, _why_?

Sara's own cold eyes drifted to that of her son's, and for a moment Vega saw something he wasn't used to, a flicker of something deeper and something he didn't want to know about. Sometimes his mother felt like his beloved BerserkFURY, but while he could control the force of the FURY his mother was different, unfathomable, and at times frightening.

"Why do you _think_ Vega?" Her perfect mouth became a sneer. "Because we…or should I say _you_…lost."

Lost.

One word that made Vega sick, one word that made him hate. 

Vega had always gotten his way. He had always won, always been the first, always been the best. He was a child genius; growing up with the best education money could buy, his peers clearly inferior to him, and always made to know that. Such joy when he had been brought up to the front of the class, his hand held high by the withered teacher and seeing the faces of his classmates fall when they heard the scores, and how once again, Vega Obscura was first. At sports day he blitzed…pardon the term…everyone else. He was the best at everything. Always. But then…oh _then_, some ragged little low-life had managed to beat him. Make him second. 

The little ass-humping, cock-sucking, shit-eating, mother-fucking_ bastard_.*

Vega may have put on a brave face, but loosing meant his family of two were on the run from the authorities and had to leave his Zoid behind. His Zoid…his beloved BerserkFURY. And his pride.

He had told Bit he wouldn't mind fighting him again. But he'd loose. And he'd loose in a spectacular way. Bit Cloud would _die_.

"Sara…"

Softer now, temper brought under control. "Vega, I told you, we have to stay here. Some nasty men are looking for us."

"But…"

The phone rang. The phone would ring for only two reasons, one, they had been found, and two…they'd been found and there was still time to bargain. The harsh tinkling hurt the boy's fragile ears, and Vega frowned at it and watched his mother glide over the pristine room (apart from the bloodstain), lift the phone from its cradle and began to speak.

Bored of it all, he stood up once more and wandered out of the room into the beautiful beyond, the many rooms he had lived in as a little boy, the rooms that were once so familiar but now so terribly alien to him. Vega was not a bad boy, at least, not in the conventional sense. He had been spoilt by those around him, so it was little wonder he treated the world and it's people like his subjects. After all, he was the descendant of the great Raven, was he not? 

This house was reputed to have been left to Raven by his foster father Minister Gunther Prozen, and upon death of the minister (which death the little lad wasn't sure) Raven started to return to it more and more. Eventually of course, he decided to settle there, but seeing as he was still a wanderer, it was left to his descendants to live in and take care of. The Obscuras had leeched off the money left behind, using whatever means necessary to get all the money within the Prozen family into their own. Vega remembered being told this by one of his private tutors, his uncle Julian. It turned out there were other benefactors who had more power should Raven die. Turned out the Shubaltz family were also pretty high on the list as well as a bunch of nobodies called the Hardins. Vega had explored the vast libraries within the halls, and looked at the massive blood line tomes that existed there, where Uncle Julian** sat and wrote for hours and hours, recording each birth to what family. The Taskers, he remembered, were distant relatives of the Hardins. Yes. 

Family histories were fascinating. 

Four hundred years ago, his ancestor had lived and died in a time of great upheaval, eventually falling in love with the ancient Zoidian Rhyss** and doing what came naturally. Of course, it never said they married, nor why Raven died after conceiving a son with his partner, but all that mattered was that he, Vega Obscura, was a direct descendant. Yes. Even if a number of other people had to be brought in because inbreeding was illegal, or at least had been in the last forty years. 

But Rhyss…she was an ancient Zoidian, and they were supposed to live for a long time. So why had _she_ died too? There had been a lot of terribly things happening ten years after the destruction of the DeathSaurer…cities burning; people dying…divine retribution was always mentioned in the texts. But what did it have to do with him…?

Hey, where'd that thought come from?

As if rising from a dream, he stared at the staircase in front of him, noticing the acute detail of the tiles, the ironwork on the staircase itself, the dying plant on the stand, his own reflection in the mirror-

His mother's voice, ranting and raving like a mad thing at the person on the other end of the line cut across his consciousness, and he turned to face her, standing there, her eyes wide with fear, hand to her mouth. He had never seen his mother like this before, and quite frankly, it was scary. 

Very scary.

"…S-Sara?" He whispered.

His mother slammed down the phone and leaned against the wall, her bosom heaving like a honeymooner's blanket. Her eyes were wide, her face pale, it was just like when they were assessed by the taxman. 

"Sara!"

"I'm okay…" She regained her composure and stared at the wall in front of her, her beady eyes flicking about, as if expecting the shadows to leap out and catch her at any moment. "Vega…sweet Vega, come to mummy…"

The little boy ran forward (squelching, let's not forget he stepped on a lizard, here.) and into his mother's arms. She was shaking – he had never seen her like this. Not all together, his mother was always the one with power, always the one in control. What had she heard that made her so upset?

"Vega, Vega-dear…I've got to go and take care of some things, okay?"

"What's happened? Are we in even more trouble?"

"No, not exactly…It's just…a long time ago something very bad happened. A lot of people died, and so did a lot of Zoids. Altile…the idiot that he is…has released the thing that caused it. A few of my friends in high places tried to track it down and destroy it…but they failed."

"Why?"

"A few old friends of ours. The Blitz Team have invited a viper into their midst…" Sara straightened. "It seems we must reveal ourselves to the world once more, Vega, because there is no other way."

"You mean I can fight Bit? I can have my Zoid back?"

"Vega, dear…" Sara purred. "You can have it with _bells_ on."

"Coooorrr!" Vega responded, his beady eyes bright. "That would look _cool_."

Most children do miss the point. But then again, that's the beauty of it all, isn't it?

~*~

Perhaps it was best Vega didn't know. The Obscura family had _always_ known about it, seeing as they had been a part of it themselves all those years ago, only under a different name, for a different cause. The knowledge had been carefully written down and hidden away because, quite frankly, humanity was stupid, and would be eager to awaken the shifting sands and the being that slept beneath it. 

Sara knew why her great-great-_great_ grandmother Rhyss had died – she had meddled where she shouldn't have. Her great-great grandmother and granduncle had watched her die a horrible, horrible death. Messy. But after than, things had quietened down, the Shubaltz boy had managed to coax the creature into sleep, sleep that was not eternal but hard to awaken from. Sealed away, hidden from prying eyes, a creature that would not die, unless you found its core, which seemed impossible.

What was it exactly? 

Julian had searched for years to try and find the answers, ever since their father had told them about things. No clear picture had ever been given. Photographs deteriorated. Text was misinterpreted. Information lost over time because the Obscuras didn't believe in making life simple. But Sara remembered sitting at her father's knee and listening to the story, listening to the descriptions, listening to the private hell her family lived in.

_Truth is, my dear, no one is quite sure when it will come…_

_But what is it daddy?_

Maybe it was a Zoid. Maybe it was…dread the thought…an organoid. But for every hack, slice, for every injury it seemed to bounce back. Wounds healed. Flesh restored itself. Once, she had heard, an arm had been torn off – the creature had simply picked up the arm and slid it back into place watching his flesh mould back to what it was supposed to be like.

Sara knew what would happen now that it was awake…what would it call itself now? It had had three hundred and eighty four years to think about it, so it would have to be good, right? Damn it!

She had always dreaded its return. It would always come back – sometimes it just appeared, not in person but in spirit – her father had died of a heart attack, but the coroner had mentioned it was a very strange death – the heart had been crushed within his chest, as if someone had reached in, through skin and bone, and simply squeezed the heart until it burst.

She remembered the funeral, standing beside her brother and listening to the sermons, at the soft whispers of how sorry everyone was. They weren't, the Obscuras were alone in everything they did, asking for no support from anyone or anything. Not one of them living past the age of forty thanks to the Ragnarok curse, reputed to have been sparked by the birth of the beast. You married into the family at your peril, was the rumour, and don't bother getting close to them. They'll die soon enough. That was precisely why Sara had did what she did, against Julian's wishes, and started to flirt with danger. How many men had she lain with until she conceived her son? Seventeen years old, home wrecker, slut, whore, twisting in the agony of birth, screaming curses to all. But she had Vega to show for it. She had never married, been branded an outcast for life, but _it was worth it_. She'd been trained for it, by her father and her aunt, trained to be everything she could be, manipulate every situation to her advantage. She was the one, they said, who would give birth to salvation. To Vega. The product of genetic engineering over generations. People like her Aunt Nadine, and Julian, were merely dropped to the sides of the road to tread towards victory, by-products of a carefully thought out plan. They would fall to the curse, just as the people before them had. And…so would she. He was coming for her. 

Only in _person_ this time…instead of simply stealing life away on a cool breeze or a dark whisper.

Doctor Shubaltz had only just managed to win the creature's confidence, but after the world's superpowers found out, they demanded the facility be shut down, and the creature killed. But instead, the soft hearted moron had simply buried the creature. The ground had been pelted with bombs of all sorts, even…and this part frightened her deeply…the odd gravity shell or two. 

Catching her breath, she allowed a maid to run out to the patio outside and drop off a small over night bag while she waited for Vega to catch up with her.

"Where's uncle Julian?"

"Forget him."

Sara called around the car, grabbed Vega and slipped inside, looking up at the house she had lived in all her life. From the library window, she met the same pale blue gleam of her sibling's, and watched his face tighten as he accepted his fate as the weaker of the pair, the one who would die first. 

There was no mistaking it.

The creature they called Mute Ragnarok was back. And who knew how many people he would kill this time?

~ to be continued.

*I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. But Vega has learnt a lot from the BackDRAFT group. Blame anonymous henchmen #234 and #31. 

**Okay, I admit it; I am a bit of a fan of Julian Crane from that bloody _Passions_ show. He's funny. There's a real quirk about him that always makes me giggle when he's on screen, probably because he's such a bastard and a wimp at the same time. 

*** Oh, that is so clichéd. I can't believe I wrote that. Ah well, this isn't my _real_ universe in Zoids fiction – if it was, well…would be telling. 

Hey…I kinda need some help, some situations, so if you can think of anything, please tell me. I need Leena and Bit to go out on some dates and stuff, and Mute to get into trouble with the others. He's good at that. I have some ideas…but if you could think of anything that might be of some help, I'd really appreciate it…I've got the same problem with 7even days at the moment too…X(

Catch you guys later!


	4. Three: The fallen musician

Harry will play a big part in this story, not because I like him as a character, but because he's the kind of guy who exaggerates and so forth. He will also be the one who will work out who Mute is and where he comes from, if you get my drift. So a lot of secrets will be revealed here, more than usual. 

And yes, Mute is basically Kaworu Nagisa (Eva) with a bit of Mythos/Mute (Princess TuTu) on a cocktail of drugs, a more musical bent, and a chip on his shoulder. Oh yeah, and a bit of a botched dye job. Waaaaaaaaaaaai he's so cute~!

@Paladin Dragoon: That's something I was planning on. He does play a major part in the series, but his appearances are varied and rather violent when it comes to him having to find things. I think. I'm rather brain dead too…;;

@Maelgwyn: Mute and Ragnarok are the same thing. That's his name, the Silent Apocalypse. I was tired when I was making it up!! I'll see what I can do about scenarios. I haven't had the strength to write this one for a little while. Stuck in chapter four…Leena is very hard to write.

@Mark: Hahaha! Possible, very possible. We shall see…

@Rocke&Roll: You may have caught me out, but we shall see. Mute's been quiet recently, but I will try and write some more when I get my strength back. I liked your idea though…it's a genuine possibility.

I managed to get more volumes of the manga, so expect Lulu and Oluga to turn up in the land of Zenebas, somewhere in the very distant Rare Hertz Saga future. Gragh…wish I could write faster!

**Chapter Three**: The fallen musician 

Harry Thomas Champ parked his DarkHorn, got out and blinked in the sunlight at the base of the Blitz Team, then decided to go inside, as per his routine. He wasn't sure why, other than he wanted to set his eyes on Leena, as destructive as she was, and see how things were doing. After all, he was in B Rank now, and there was no way he'd be able to go any further. He wasn't a threat (which kind of sucked) so perhaps they'd be nice…

Oddly enough it was very quiet. This put him on high alert, because when things were quiet, things were _happening_, and that could mean _anything_. The Zoids were all safely stowed away (very unusual, because the Zoids of the Blitz team led a secret life of their own) and to his amazement he noticed a red BladeLiger in the hanger, as well as a second GunSniper and the Gustav parked outside. That meant Leon, the eldest Toros was home, as well as the sexy southern belle known as Naomi Fluegal. 

Harry wasn't too sure about women. He'd been bullied by his older sisters and brother as a child, so he always felt better around strong women, but Naomi was kind of strange. She was 'sexy' but he did not find her attractive. He often wondered why, but Harry was a very innocent person. He was yet to find out of course, but for the moment…

Going down the long corridors, he finally came into the main lounge, and came across the hypochondriac Jamie, the boy with the split personality and the taste in flying Zoids, playing a game of chess with Leon.

Harry always felt slightly awed by Leon, and also Jamie for that matter. Their skills for one thing – Oh, how he wanted to be as good as them! – But also the fact their family didn't think less of them for what they wanted to do. Harry was still sore over Mary being so…well…right about everything. He _wasn't_ a good pilot, that he knew, and no amount of money would make him able to be as good as the two men in front of him, let alone Bit Cloud!

"Hey Harry." Leon said gently. Leon, the eldest Toros child, so strong and sure…Harry felt so awed by him. How could someone be so different to their sibling? He and Mary had many traits in common, their eyes for one thing, and their gestures, their smiles. The love of tea. Victoria and Edmund also shared the sparkling azure-green eyes of their mother's ancient line, the eyes of a true Shubaltz. Okay, so Alice had his father's brown eyes, but she shared the red-blond hair. You knew they were siblings. But how were Leena and Leon so different? Leena, so beautiful and fiery, who shared her father's violet eyes, with her hair a deep, reddy pink…kind of (and rather strangely) like the colour of hurt flesh, of a cleaned wound that begged to be closed and healed again. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought. Harry often had strange thoughts, that lead to _other_ strange thoughts in the cacophony he called his mind. Now Leon, _he_ took after his father, tall, powerful…wait, what was he saying? Leon was a class apart from Steve Toros and the beautiful Leena! Their minds…they worked in so many different ways. Why, Leon was so clever in his battling techniques, while Leena…and her father for that matter, headed in with no holds barred. Did he take after his mother, then? 

A thought to ponder. 

Harry, for all his bluster and arrogance, was a good thinker. Carefully slipping back into the conscious world from his thoughts, his eyes met Leon's, and he felt the young man look away. "Surprised you're here, Champ. What with the injuries and all…"

Harry nodded shyly. "Things are…fine. I…came around to see how the last battle went. Heard there was a scuffle of some sort."

"Leena is with my dad and Bit." A twisted smile echoed on Leon's lips, and Harry thought of Leena. The smile…_that_ smile, sorry, was alike. It was not a nice smile either.

Did he just say Bit?

"Bit?!" _Whoa, deep breath! Now is not the time to freak out!_ Harry tried to maintain his cool. Slightly quieter this time. "Bit…? Why?" 

"There's been an accident." Jamie said sorrowfully. "In our last battle, we kinda won by default – there was little left of the team we were up against…"

"Ahh, sweet Leena…" Harry murmured happily. Of course, Leena had won the battle…so beautiful and powerful, his Leena…yes…_his_ Leena… "Let me guess, a Full Weasel Assault?"

"Uh-huh." Both of the other guys said, unhappily, but if they were unhappy with his reaction or the events of the day, the youth wasn't sure. Best to play it safe.

"So who got hurt?" Harry cocked his head to the side in curiosity. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Leon's face darkened, and Harry realised it had something to do with Naomi. "_Brad_ was pretty badly knocked out…by _Leena_, of all people. We also have ourselves a new Zoid, a cranky Redler that's currently trussed up in the smaller hanger around the back where we do the repairs. The pilot is currently sleeping off his injuries in the spare room, only a few bruises and the like. Surprising, considering the moves the damned Redler pulled off…" He fell silent, and lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, drinking deeply. "I don't know. Anyway, Leena's around. But not in a good mood. Not that it bothers you, I gather."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Harry growled back, without meaning to. He silently cursed himself, but held a straight face. Masking his emotions…the real ones that is…was something Harry was very good at. Because when people held you in contempt, you could listen in on everything and not be bothered at all. When you weren't a threat, you weren't in trouble.

"Nothing, Harry."

"I strongly doubt that."

"_Harry_." A warning tone. Leon closed his eyes, as if to block the youth out. Jamie on the other hand was not so nice.

"He means you're a doormat." The kid sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "You let Leena do anything to you and you take it without making a noise."

"So?" The red head felt a little upset at this. The topic of Leena was very close to his heart, even if he was so unsure about her sometimes.

"_So_, you're a doormat. You let people walk all over you. You're like me."

"First off, I don't let everyone walk over me, and second, I am not at _all_ like you!" Harry muttered. 

"Yeah, you're right." Jamie turned away. "I'm a better pilot."

Harry blushed and looked away again. "Maybe I do need to work on my skills, but I'm _not_ a doormat."

"Suuuuuure, Harry. Sure." Having grown bored of the conversation; Jamie went back to trying to find the best way to beat Leon, which was quite easy seeing as the older man's heart really wasn't in it to win. He was thinking about Naomi…it was all over his face. Longing mixed with jealousy, something Harry knew a little too well.

Harry decided not to bother with trying to make any more conversation. He'd always found it hard to talk to people; they never really seemed that interested in him. He couldn't understand why, he was Harry Champ, the man destined to be king!

Yeah!

Yeah…

Regaining his composure, he strolled out of the room, ignoring the giggles from the two chess players, and went in the direction of the yells and cussing that could only be Leena and Bit. 

Bit. What a cad! An uncouth, common piece of rubbish! Why had Doctor Toros allowed him to stay on the team and work with them if he was such a danger to the other members of the team? Well, apart from the fact he had debts to pay…oh, and the LigerZERO seemed to really like him…and, well, he did seem _awfully_ good at his job, when he thought about it…and…it didn't matter!

He was still no good!

And no good for Leena!

Um…

Shaking his head, Harry stepped lightly into the smaller living areas, and wandered down the hall, but felt the oh-so-familiar feelings of worry as he stepped into the darkness and found himself moving into the black. The air felt unnatural, highly charged with energy, and there was a hissing noise, no, something more, the sound you could hear when someone sits close to you with their portable CD player jacked up to eight out of ten on the volume control.

The noise was coming from the room with the door partly open. Taped on it was a badly written sign saying 'Dont dis-terb' in Bit's hand writing, which once more emphasised the fact that for all his worth, Bit Cloud had never gone to school, simply following in his father's footsteps in being a junk dealer. 

Harry felt a lot of hurt in this. He'd had an education…still studying in fact, and for all the money in the world, all the times he'd _tried_ to get high marks and failed and so on…he still wasn't the best. It was such a defeatist attitude, he knew, but hey – he'd done all the work, but people like Bit just sailed through life like nothing mattered…

…Talk about a silver spoon…

"…Heeeey…" Called a voice from the door. It was a strange voice, hissing and thin, but also like someone talking from far away.

Harry jumped, and turned around. "Who said that?!"

"Tom…? Tom old friend…? That you…? So dark…almost couldn't hear you over the radio…Tom…" Different now, deeper. But still thin and far away. Almost another person entirely…didn't Leon say that only _one_ person had been brought in?

Harry walked back to the door and slid up to it. The dark smelt musty, old, but there was something else, something he recognised…

"Hello…?" He called out, softly.

"…Hi…" Came the voice.  It had changed again, now was nice, quite smooth, but obviously the person hadn't spoken for quite a while. "…Come in if you want…hey…_you're_ not Tom…"

Harry blinked and waited for his eyes to adjust in the spare room the Blitz Team had for visitors. The single cot, bedside cabinet, the old wardrobe that had been in Leena's room until the hide and seek incident with the screaming and the suffocating, the boxes full of junk – it suddenly occurred to Harry that this room also doubled as the 'stuff' room. He finally made out the form on the bed, a youth shorter than he was with a messy mop of hair that seemed light at the back and dark at the front. Soft, liquid eyes regarded him sleepily, and a frail hand beckoned him closer. Harry obliged, pulled up a chair and looked down, noticing all the details, like the old shirt he was clad in for decency's sake, and the headphones now hanging around his neck. From them came a tinny bass line coupled with an unearthly voice talking about revenge, or something like it. The words he couldn't make out, but the feeling was there. 

This person was very familiar. Strange, but familiar.

"Nooo…you're not Tom…but you look a lot like him…" A ragged cough, a shaking head. Trembling hands took off the headset and placed it on the bedside table alongside the portable CD player which looked like it had had it's share of adventures in the world. 

"Do you need some water or something? My name's Harry by the way…Who's Tom?"

The kid smiled. He was probably a year younger than Harry, but his eyes…his eyes were ancient. "Water'd be nice, but it's not filtered here. It'll give me a rash. Rashes…are no good. Believe me…" He sat up a little more, showing how unnaturally thin he was. The shirt just hang there, across his lanky frame, showing a bony shoulder through the collar "How you doing, Harry? Tom was an old friend of mine…I'm a little dis…disorientated…I've been asleep for a very long time…"

Very odd. What in the world was he talking about? "They brought you in this morning!"

"Sleeping before that…You could extract anything from me in this mood!" He laughed, but ended up coughing. "M'Mute."

'Mute', eh? Must be his name, because mute meant not being able to speak. And he was talking just fine. "Mootay? That's a funny name…"

The boy shrugged. "A name's a name. Soo…do you want the numbers for lotto, or don't they do that anymore? Time kinda slips away from you when you're in the state I'm in."

This was out of his depth. "Look…I, I, uh, I'm going down to see Doc Toros…do you want me to tell him you're awake?" Harry felt nervous. There were butterflies in his stomach, and for some strange reason he both loved the feeling and loathed it. "He runs this base. He has two kids, Leon, he's the eldest, and Leena, who's really beautiful and the girl I'm going to marry some day…" Those eyes were like black holes. Baby universes. You were sucked into them, and all you could do was keep telling this frail creature everything, your inner most secrets, your fears, _everything_ until he looked away. "…marry…some…"

"Yeah?" The boy looked away thus breaking the spell and staring into the wall, as if it were a window, his face suddenly expressive, a leering grin and a glint of eye that could only be described as evil.  For a moment, Harry looked too, as if expecting to see something, ignoring the expression, but not forgetting it. "Doc Toros huh? I knew a Doc Toros. And he died. Quite spectacularly too."

~*~

Mute Ragnarok (as that was his full name) was a shade shorter than Bit, unnaturally thin, and very pale. But most striking was his hair, his mopish fringe a rich red, the rest grey white just past his ears in a ragged cut, and of course, those liquid grey eyes. If the hair was a dye job, Harry wasn't sure, but sitting in the main living area, he was sure to find out because it was question and answer time with everyone playing host-with-the-most. The only person missing was Brad, who was currently bedridden and waiting for one of the flying doctors to make an appearance and fix him up.

Because bases were so far apart and cars and trucks too slow to get the injured to safety, a fleet of Pteras had been commissioned complete with full medical gear to stabilize sick and wounded pilots and air-lift them to safety or treat them there. It was the only way to keep people alive. Brad was now high on the 'most seen' lists because of his accident in the Gold Cup. He was currently moaning and groaning like a bitch in heat, clawing at his wounds. Harry wasn't sure why – when he was five he had fallen out of the tree house his father and older brother had helped make and landed awkwardly, breaking his leg and hurting things inside. Being so shaken up meant that he'd had to be operated on, just like the mercenary. Harry was always one to suffer in pain when the real injuries came along, simply because he knew that no one really cared, and he was expected to get on with it. He'd been out after a day's observation, and had a little limp now from the old fracture that had been re-broken by the crash. It had healed quickly – the protein baths they used nowadays worked wonders. He limp was more pronounced now than ever, and he felt acutely conscious of the stares he was getting from the others. He'd always been able to hide it, it was hardly there, unless he'd been walking for a long time, or it was cold. Rubbing it anxiously, he silently thought Brad was being a bit of a baby. He was milking it for all it was worth, the bastard.

Mute, sitting across from him, nursed a watered down orange juice and then leaned back into the sofa, lost in the clothing that covered him, a mix of Jamie and Brad's. The only reason he wasn't wearing things appropriate for his size was that Bit barely had anything to begin with, and what he _did_ have tended to _smell_ of Bit. _Badly_ of Bit. 

Bit had the kind of odour problem that made the strongest deodorant break down and cry, and Harry had heard Brad mention once, that Bit used turpentine to keep his stench away. The Doc said it was hormones, Harry believed that he'd been born in a barn.

But hey, Jesus was born in a barn. And Harry was sure that religious education never mentioned _him_ with a BO problem. They could have taken it out of the texts, but it was supposed to be the word of God, right? Rufus chapter 28, verse 47 to 49, 'and Rufus sayeth 'Fuck, boss, you don't half stink!' to which the Son of God replied: 'Bet you ten bucks I can stink out that tavern over there.' And Rufus replied: 'you're on. A tenner says three people down the back will still be listening to the sermon by the time you finish.' And then Jesus said: "Bullshit, _no one_ will be left standing! I am the Son of God, man!' But then Matthew cut in and said 'J-baby, the DNA test has a 1.98 chance of being wrong.' And Jesus then said: 'Shh, they don't know that…'*

Mute smiled, a long, slow smile. The kind of smile that hadn't been seen on Zi for…well, for over four hundred years. "Ahh, the old interrogation. How I've missed it. Who goes first?"

Silence. The Bit leaned forward and smiled. 

"My name's Bit! This here's the Blitz Team! We're in Class S."

"Well howdy partner." Mute answered back. Harry suppressed the urge to giggle, but Leon and Naomi could not. Both burst out laughing at the straight-faced child, who in turn shifted from old west cowboy to his normal gentle voiced self. "Class S? Excuse my ignorance, but is that good? S is like…give me a moment…S is the nineteenth letter of the alphabet. Would it be better to be a class A, or a class Z?"

Now everyone laughed, and Mute cocked his head to the side, not understanding.

"Class S is the highest ranking in Zoid battling. Where have you been living, under a rock or somethin'?!" Leena howled in her usual way. "Where the heck did you go to get that hair? I need their number!"

Doc smiled at his daughter in a fond yet exasperated way. "Now, now Leena. Dyeing your hair in outlandish colours comes under piercings' and tattoos…not until you're eighteen. Oh, no offence, son."

An odd sigh was her answer. "It's no dye job…it's all natural. And before you ask if the curtains match the carpet, I'd say that's a little _too_ personal. My heritage is rather unusual to say the least." He then brightened. "And no, I've just never battled before. I came from…well; I came from the Wind Colony. We don't get too many Zoid pilots out there…we don't get much of _anything_ out there, except inbreeding and lettaces. Very big on lettuces, the Wind Colony. Even bigger with the inbreeding. Lived there almost all my life…Guylos born, though, so I'm slightly saner and definitely better looking than the two headed bar tender with three fingers." Satisfied by his answer, people relaxed and the air lost it's tension with the smiles and chuckles he had produced. Mute put down his empty glass and smiled impishly. "I'm sorry for ruining your battle."

"Oh, it's okay, we were going to loose anyway. We haven't been so lucky since entering Class S" The Doc sighed. "Wind Colony…Wind Colony…can't say I remember that place…the name's familiar but I can't remember where it is…anything about it…"

"It's that kind of place." Mute replied. "Complete backwater. Was taken there when I was three."

There it was again! Harry's head jerked up and he focused completely on the youth in front of him. It was like he was listening to something, speaking in short hand as he received the instructions of what to say. But his stare was plainly obvious to the new comer who raised an eyebrow and locked eyes with him. Again, that sense of loss.

But this time a smile. "Battling, huh? Wow. Make a lot of money?"

"Oh, we get by." 

"Uh-huh." Mute leaned forward, cupping his chin. "Your tone says differently."

"Well…" The Doc averted his eyes. "We, uh, we kinda have a lot of debts to pay off. Repairs and all. Parts. You know."

"Repairs?" Mute cocked his head to the side. "What's the problem with your Zoids? They all look in fine working order to _me_."

"That's the problem, they look it, but they're not. It's just the little ones that count really, working with the joints and the like and…hey! Why the hell am I telling you this?!"

"'Cos he asked, Doc." Bit chirped.

"Oh yeah! Ah-hah-hah…hah…yeah."

Mute leaned back again. "And you're one pilot down now, right? Seeing as your friend is currently crying his eyes out on his bed because it hurts so much…it must cost a lot to keep fixing _him_ up and then having him break down again…Geez, I had no idea I'd caused so much trouble." When he looked up, he was wearing an expression of complete hopeful innocence. "There's gotta be something I can do to help, right? I need to repay you for getting those Zabats off my arse, and for the damage I did."

"Judges get blown up all the time…"

"That's not what I meant, miss." Mute fiddled with the hem of his oversized shirt. "I…I can be your mechanic…Pretty good with fixing things up…and I can sing for my supper if needs be, _literally_. I came out of the sticks to find a career in the music industry." That achieved a snort of laughter from everyone, and Mute sighed. "That was the town's reaction too. I have to do something to pay you guys back – I can play the mechanic, and if you're really hard pushed, I can pilot. Just tell me how to do it, the rules I mean. I use that old thing for crop dusting, but I can pull the odd move with it that might be able to help. I'm good with Zoids, _really_."

"I thought you said your home town didn't have that many Zoids." Leon cut in. 

Mute seemed to freeze for a minute then laughed. "Never said I learnt to _pilot_ there. A lot of travellers come through that hole in need of food and water. I made money out of being a mechanic. Look, lad, I know it may sound hard to believe that a guy like me can work wonders with a beat up piece of shit – sorry, 'scuse my Helic – the pile of scrap metal in the back shed like that Redler. That thing is a relic from the wars between Helic and Guylos over four hundred years ago, and _it still works_."

Leon sat back, and their wills clashed again. "Why were you being chased by those Zabats? What did you do?"

Mute's face went bright red. "It was a gig. I was playing, did a bit of the old Ragnarok charm, and then the boyfriend found out. He gave chase…you see what I mean. It's not like I was doing anything wrong, I was just talking to her!"

"So you have wandering eyes, huh." Leon replied, his eyes dark. It was clear he was thinking

"No! No I don't! I swear I thought she was on her lonesome! She bought me a couple of drinks, we got talking, next thing I know this man three times the size of me is screaming in my face about property and stuff. I don't normally pick up at gigs! I don't normally pick up full stop!" Mute folded his legs and met Leon's stare with a stare of his own. "You know, it's all very well not to trust people, but you're paranoid. You're acting like I'm some sort of criminal. You saw my Zoid. Do you think that thing is capable of taking out _another_ Zoid? I just wander around with my guitar. Check the cockpit. My sweetheart's is there. No weaponry. Just me, my music, my Redler, and the open skies. Look, that fox type Zoid got pretty smashed up, so I think I need to repay the pilot for the damage I caused, you know?"

For a moment there was silence. 

Harry had never seen anyone look so helpful and somewhat pathetic. Somehow he'd won the Doc over and he _knew_ it.

"I _suppose_ we could use another person on the team, especially someone who can actually _fix_ them…working for free? Good…but just 'till Brad's better, understand?"

"Yeah, when I've paid you back for the damage I'll be off, no worries. Just keep me fed and watered and that's all I ask for."

Harry nodded. That was just the right thing to say in the situation, regardless of the confused looks he was getting from the other warriors.

"Oh, good!" Doc gave him the thumbs up. "I can tell you and I are going to get on _great_!"

Distantly, in Harry's mind, something screamed.

~ to be continued

*If you have seen Dogma, you may appreciate who Rufus is. I apologise to any religious people out there, the text was meant as a joke. The passage is made up, completely so, and was inspired by Will Anderson's comment (Triple J, Australia) on how to get around your mother asking you if you were born in a barn when you've left the door open. The appropriate answer is to bat your eyelashes and say 'But mum, Jesus was born in a barn' to which there is no real come back, apart from the fact that at least Jesus was respectful to his mother. 

_Like 7even Days, don't expect an update anytime soon. My studies are mounting up, and I seem to be run down again. It's probably due to the stress before Supernova last weekend (13th 14th of September) I didn't win, but I got some good tips from the artist of WitchKing, so that was cool. Thank you for your kindness, Paul! You rock._

And to the person who stole my CD wallet and then left it under a freakin' car in the carpark, what were you thinking? My CD player is rarely kept in the same place – most of the time I'm listening to it!

But thank you for leaving it and the contents behind. Most of those CDs are out of print now, and all are held dear to my heart…I suppose…while I was initially calling you all names under the sun, you left it behind for me to find – even if I was halfway out of the city before realising it! You almost made me collapse, you know that? Argh…need rest…


	5. Four: A drastic decision

_Kuuu life is very hard at the moment, so much work and silly people all around me. _

_@Mark: You are sooooooo right on all accounts! Thomas was mentioned, and yes that is the only way Bit and Leena would ever make it together properly._

_@pointytilly: Thank you ^^ I think I will use Rocke's idea…^^_

_@Rocke: I've read through the chapter and I can't see where that happened. Sometimes my programs stuff up just to spite me ;_;. Yes, Mute is a very shady little boy, and yes, he will be single at the end of the fic. But he will have his eye on a special someone. And yes-yes, I am an Imperial. Look, you know me, it's obvious as to what's happened. But how the game is played…now there is a guessing game…^.^. Hope you appreciate the extra shadiness of him in this chapter!_

_@Paladin Dragoon: I'll let you contemplate on your opinion of him. Mute is a monster…Just a very cute one. It's not like he needs the money, not really, but music plays a very special part in his life because it has an important meaning to him. It's the only thing that keeps him sane, apart from the 'special' someone he's going to meet. And I didn't say WHICH Doc died…X)_****

**Chapter Four**: A drastic decision

Throwing the magazine she'd been reading to her floor, Leena rolled over and stared blankly at the ceiling above her, taking in every detail of the rock star Mickey Jay, stroking his guitar like it was a certain piece of his anatomy. Mickey was like…was like one of the _hottest_ new rock acts around. She'd only just gotten into his stuff after Naomi had allowed her to borrow a his debut CD, telling her how good it was. The music wasn't really up her alley, she was more of a pop girl herself, but he was hot, and that was the reason his poster was plastered onto her ceiling.

Naomi, Naomi, Naomi. What did that girl think she was doing?

Leena didn't like Naomi very much. Naomi was a stuck up, pompous bitch, and having her on base put Leena's teeth on edge, regardless of how happy it made her older brother feel. She wasn't stupid – it was bloody obvious that Naomi had the hots for Brad. The two of them had been caught kissing sometimes in the hanger, and Leena was curious to know if they'd had sex or no. Probably, Naomi had stayed over a few times, and things had gotten…loud. 

Leena squirmed.

Naomi was a bitch. She always thought she was better than anyone else, and everyone agreed with her! She, Leena Toros, was the best! She always had been, and always would be! Screw the whole wide world!

"Naomi won't admit that I'm the best." She said to the silent rock star, his perfect lips parted in a howl, finger arched painfully over the strings. "Her music sucks. You suck. But you look hot." Further thought was put onto this. "I'm bored, Mickey. I want some fun. Dad took all my allowance because of what I did, and damn it, it's not my fault. I had to do something. I…I single-handedly saved us all! Okay, So Brad got hit, but he was in the way. Brad's _always_ in the way, the moron. I want to go shopping. Get a new damn outfit. Give myself a make over. Naomi can't handle that I'm hotter than she is."

Mickey Jay did not answer. He was still posed, sweat gleaming on his bronzed body, pants so tight, if the guitar wasn't in the way, you could probably see his – and here, Leena giggled – his dick. 

Ha-ha, big rock star, tiny cock.

This thought amused her for a little while, but boredom could not be staved from her consciousness, and getting up and smoothing her clothing down, she left her room and decided to see who else was around. She knew that Jamie was off to see his father for the day, and that Bit was off somewhere. Brad was whining in his room, and if she was lucky, Harry had gone home. Harry, the complete dickhead who seemed to claim he was in love with her. What the hell was he on about all the time? It was a good thing he was so damn gullible so she could get anything out of him. He was a walking wallet, and quite happy to dish it out to people he liked…like her. Even a little snot like Harry could see she was the best at everything, and worshipped her for it. That was a thought…maybe he hadn't left yet…maybe she could convince him to take her shopping! That thought made things a little brighter, but she'd have to find her father first…who was probably with her brother or something, assessing damage or whatever…and Naomi would be there…prancing around with her knickers showing, saying 'look at me! I think I'm better than Leena, but everyone knows I'm not, because I'm a cheap bitch with my number on every public toilet door!'

With her head held high, Leena strolled down to the hanger, in search of someone to torture.

~*~

The hanger was depressingly empty.

Leena frowned, glaring at the Zoids in front of her, each nice and quiet, snuggled into their holding cages and looking quite content. Perhaps, if she had been paying more attention, she would have noticed that each of them were crouched in the submissive position, as if a more powerful Zoid was present. All except the LigerZERO that is, which stood proud and tall, defying everything.

But in the centre of the hanger sat an antique Redler currently sitting on a couple of concrete blocks, missing three legs and his tail, which were currently laid out on a tarpaulin and being worked on. The worker in question was the kid they had dragged in from the battlefield a few days ago, humming along to the weird noise coming from the open cockpit of the dragon Zoid. She realised a CD player had been installed in it, and that was what was playing…but if it were music or simply clicks and beeps she wasn't sure. After all, Leena didn't get to hear dance music very often.

She strolled up and admired him at his work, as he carefully released the tail blade and looked at it with an expert eye. He had a nice ass in those tight black jeans he was wearing, and for some reason he was showing a little more skin that the young lady was used to. He was wearing a tight red t-shirt that exposed a bit of his midriff, something Leena didn't normally see.

She opened her mouth to say hi, then thought against it. This was a _kid_ with nothing worth saying at all. As she turned to leave, she heard a clearing of a throat and turned around.

"Track 5 off the Slide LP, called Hell's landing*. A track I often listen to when working. Something wrong?"

"How'd you know I was here?" Leena looked around suspiciously, expecting to see a mirror or something.

"The music may be up loud, but I've heard it so many times I know when something's different. I heard you open the door in a particularly soft bit, when the tempo changes and the piano comes in with the beta melody**."

"Oh. Okay." Leena blinked, not understanding. She was used to the mass produced crap girls her age are so fond of, with girls singing about true love, stars, da bling-bling***, and boys with fast cars.

The kid smiled. "We haven't really been introduced properly. I know you were there when I woke up, but you seemed more concerned with eating. Mute. You must be the great Leena, yes?"

The girl perked up. He had heard of her! "You bet!"

The boy…Mute…grinned. "You should really be more careful when you shoot off like that. I could have been killed…and so could everyone else."

What?! Her eyes narrowed, the little snot! How dare he! "There's nothing wrong with my shooting!!"

"I didn't say there was. I just said you should be more _careful_. 'Sides, you should practise more. The second GunSniper…the one _not_ licensed to the Blitz Team that is…went out to practise a little while ago with the guy who pilots the red BladeLiger." Mute wiped some grease from his hands on the rag that lay at his side. "Nadine or something. Naomi, that's it. And Leon. He's your brother, right?"

"Oh. Okay. Uh, yeah. That's who they are."

"Nice piece of arse, if I say so myself." Mute looked down despairingly at the tail. "And my blade is cracked right through."

"Who's ass is nice?"

"Oh, Naomi. But she's going to have one hell of a cellulite problem when she gets older…and wrinkles. Would your father mind if I put in overtime? I have a sure remedy of fixing this kind of problem…" His eyes wandered up to the Redler and he scratched his chin thoughtfully.

Leena stared at him, not sure whether to take the comment about Naomi's bottom as a compliment to her, or to Naomi herself. But then, he had mentioned cellulite and wrinkles, so Leena chalked a big one next to her name. "I don't think dad will care, as long as everything else is fixed up."

"Yeah…I guess…The ShadowFOX is going to take a little longer. The system is something I'm not familiar with…Organoid mimicking systems are a bugger to work with, but not impossible."

"What?"

"The first time around, word on the street was 'Ultimate X'. That hunk of junk over there is an Ultimate X if I ever saw them, and I don't do Zoids like that…they have a direct connection between Zoid and Organoid. The system is sketchy, unreliable, and as arrogant as hell…in short, just like me." His eyes narrowed, and Leena stared at him, seeing extreme hatred in the usually calm grey pools she'd been looking at only a moment before. But the hatred faded when the gaze shifted back to her again. They were strange eyes, which regarded her quite coldly, but at the same time with some sort of bleak fascination. "The FOX is another matter, however. People often get these two mixed up, but the FOX is _not_ an Ultimate X, rather a bio-feedback system with a fancy conductor in the core. As I said, the system mimics the Ultimate X, but lacks the mindlessness of a battle Zoid and seems to be more reliable. In short, it's big fat organoid. Unusual, but I'll give it a go."

"What are organoids?" Leena felt out of her depth here. This was a kid. A kid around Jamie's age. A kid who knew a lot of stuff about Zoids, and was talking in a way she couldn't quite fathom. Jamie was like that, but then he'd start squealing about people messing up his battle plans, then he'd mess himself, and that'd be the end of it. Or something along those lines.

"You don't know what they are?" He smirked. It was a cruel smirk at that, and one that he'd obviously put a lot of work into. "Organoids are like Zoids, except they have a personality, an intelligence as it were, and are much, much smaller. A bit larger than…say…your father for example. They bond with a human partner upon their birth and help them with battling or with whatever you want, like say…the housework. They're quite smart…some are at least…but for the most part they can fix up a Zoid, enhance its abilities, and bring out the full potential of a mechanical beastie to help the pilot."

"Isn't that cheating?"

"Well, yeah. But if you practise, then you won't need the organoid anymore, unless you're in _real_ dire straits."

Wheels started to turn in Leena's mind. Wow, if _she_ had an organoid, she'd be better than _anyone_!! "Oh. Is there anyway of actually getting one of these…organ-thingies?"

"Not really…not anymore. Used to be abundant, then they started to die off. Went crazy-like, you know? Really sad, anyway."

Damn.

Leena wasn't sure what to say.

She didn't know why her father had allowed this odd person to stay on as a permanent resident of the base, but then again, her father often did strange things that no one really understood. But he was working for free, and she'd never seen the Zoids look so good before, so maybe that sort of made sense to have him around. Mute stuck around the living room and the kitchen, but for preferred to live down in the hanger. Kind of like Bit.

But Bit had moved _out_ since Mute moved _in_.

Something about strange voices in the dark…

"Are you hiding from someone, missy?" Mute asked pleasantly. "You keep looking at the hanger door with the kind of dread I remember from my youth. I was _always_ being slapped about by my betters for being in the wrong place at the wrong time…got them all back of course…stood on them all…squish…haha…" His voice trailed off, but Leena didn't hear the embarrassed tones in his voice. She was too busy fuming.

"I'm not hiding from anybody!"

Mute smiled, his teeth very white. "It's that Harry-chap, isn't it? Ooh, are you trying to see if he's coming in to say hello? Hehe…you two would make a rather darling couple."

"No!"

"Well why are you-"

Mute didn't get to finish. Leena had had enough of his questions, and if the little turd wasn't going to shut up of his own accord, then she'd do it for him. She grabbed him by the collar of his coat and pulled him up and close, only just registering the strange smell of electronics that hung about him. "Shut _up_! You evil little kid!"

"Steady on!"

"I don't like you, I don't trust you, and FYI# I _hate_ Harry! He is _such_ a _loser_! He's been after me since we were kids, and I didn't like him _then_ either! The only reason I'm _ever_ nice to him is if I _want_ something! That's all he's good for – money! I don't mind how he drools after me, but sometimes it gets really, _really_ bad, and _I don't like him_." A particularly large piece of spittle flew in a graceful arc and hit Mute in the face. His look of disgust was sheer poetry.

"Fucking hell!" Mute struggled in her hands. "Put me down! And stop yelling in my face!"

"Not until you promise to shut up!"

"If you don't like Harry and want to ward him off forever, why don't you just _go out with someone_?!" He was dropped rather unceremoniously to the ground. "Ow! My arse!" He scowled at her. "If the money thing bothers you, then just suck up to him and tell him so-and-so won't buy it for you, and that makes you sad. If he loves you as much as you say he does, then he'll wait for you, and do whatever you ask. Hell's teeth, woman!" Leena stared at him. Sprawled back on the cold metal floor of the hanger, his oddly coloured hair framing his delicate face, she suddenly realised that this child, this _boy_, was staring at her with murder in his eyes. "Don't you _ever_ lay a finger on me again! I was only trying to help – is that so wrong?"

"I don't like you."

"Feeling's mutual. Look, sweetheart, the hanger's _my_ domain now, and if I catch you down here I will report you to your dad, and you'll be loosing more than your allowance." Mute stood up, and turned to face his growling Redler, an expression of fear crossing his pale face, a complete turnaround from what he was like a moment before. "Don't." He murmured. "It's okay. Things are under control."

A moment of silence.

"No! Not like that! No, please…"

Leena stared at him.

"It's okay…really. _Leena_ was just _leaving_." He spat in her direction. 

"Who are you talking to?"

"Never you mind."

"You can talk to your Zoid? Bit can do that with the Liger!"

"Oh he _can,_ can he?" Mute rolled his eyes. "Fucking figures…" He scratched his head, then went back to work. "I'm enforcing that hanger ban in ten seconds. You can come in here to get your GunSniper and bring it back, but I will be doing basic and battle maintenance. If I catch you in here at any other time and _without_ adult supervision, there will be trouble, sunshine, _trouble_."

Leena wanted to slam his pretty face into the ground, but stopped herself just in time – the last thing the Blitz Team needed was loosing the only person capable of taking care of the Zoids. For free. That meant more allowance, didn't it? Yes…yes! Leena sighed, trying to make it look like she couldn't be bothered with the stupid allowance and went to leave, knowing that if she was a good girl, then her father would forget about grounding her and let her get on with the more important things in life…like shooting things.

Mute sat back down and went back to examining the tail blade. After a moment of it, however, he glanced over his shoulder and gave her a dark look. "Are you _still_ here?"

"Go out with someone, you said?"

Mute's eyes widened with shock. "Hey, don't even _think_ about it-"

That was all it took. "Don't flatter yourself, Zoid-boy!!" Lena snarled, bringing her dainty sandshoe down hard onto the mechanic's head, and pressing him down onto the ground.

"Hey!!"

"Arrogant, mean, stupid-"

"Gerr'off!!"

"No!"

Mute managed, with flailing arms, to get out from beneath her and glare at her. He promptly poked his tongue out and ran off to climb up onto the Redler and look down at her from the cockpit. "Bitch!"

"Coward!"

"I hope…I hope you catch…_scabies_…and die!"

Leena screeched with frustration and stomped off back to the living areas, only to return to scream 'you can't die from scabies!!' back at him and return to her room, slumping down onto the bed without a care for anyone who saw her. She didn't like Mute one bit, but he was right…she needed a boyfriend. Brad was out of the question. He was always being sarcastic at her, and Naomi would have a cry. As much as it would be amusing to watch her break down like that, Brad was kind of icky. Jamie was out of the question too, she mused, because for one he was too young, and two, he knew too much about the female body. Waaaaaaaay too much. And of course, her brother was out of the picture as well. Mute was an asshole. That left…

Bit.

Leena blinked.

Bit Cloud?

Well, he was kind of cute. And he wasn't too bad, if he wasn't stealing her food, or getting in the way of her precious GunSniper, or perving on her in the shower, or maybe laughing at her mistakes, or…

Bit Cloud…

Leena sat up. It could just work. Yes.

Bit Cloud…

Looking down at her lap for a minute, she plucked up the courage to go out of the room that had seemed so boring before, and peer out into the corridors…it had been lucky Harry hadn't seen her storming out of the hanger…then there would be trouble. It would be hard, very hard. It's not like he'd say no, right?

Daintily, she danced down the corridor, wondering how she'd phrase it so she wouldn't seem needy or anything, but everything she went over in her head didn't seem right. Bit, would you go out with me? Bit, hey, we've known each other for a long time and…Bit! Drop that cookie, there's something I want to ask you-

"Hey!"

At long last, she discovered where Harry had disappeared to instead of hanging around Leena's usual haunts. It seemed he and Bit had met each other in the living areas while Bit tried to secure himself a cookie and Harry had been looking for her…both had met, words had been exchanged, and suddenly it was gloves off and make way for the fisticuffs. 

Blundering past her, Bit tumbled to the ground with Harry on top of him. Both looked flushed and angry, and Harry was clearly winning. Stunned, Leena tried to take a step back, but only tripped and landed on her bottom, giving both boys a full view of her underwear. As Harry blushed, gasped, slid a hand over his now bloody nose and looked away, Bit went bright red and let his jaw drop. Leena flushed in embarrassment, and managed to sit up and slide her skirt between her legs, blocking the view of her favourite panties.

"H-Hello Kitty?!" Harry gasped through his hyperventilating. "My _god_!" Trust that idiot pervert to look there first, Leena thought, completely disregarding the fact that Bit had knocked Harry that way, and his face had landed just _so_ to get a clear view.

"Hello Pussy more like it!" Bit replied with a cheer.

That perverted bastard! He was worse than Harry! Leena kicked him in the head. "BIT!!"

"Sorry, but if you're going to flash your panties at us, what do you expect? A standing ovation?" Bit groaned, rubbing his head. He was so rude, all the time…but in a strange way, Leena liked it. It was funny…but still. He'd peeped. Peepers had to be punished… "Though I must admit, they suit you."

The young lady huffed angrily. Trust Bit to always mess things up, just when she was going to write him into her good books. "Damn it! And just when…just…!"

"Just _what_ Leena?" Bit's gormless grin always made her smile. He was kind of hopeless in a helpful way. And he had nice eyes.  Again the little counter started to move from red to green again. "Something wrong?"

"Of _course_ something's wrong! You always screw up!"

"Yeah Bit!" Harry butted in – as always. "There's no need to be rude about Leena's underwear!" That earned _him_ a punch in the head. He squealed childishly and rubbed his sore face with big girly tears oozing out of his eyes. Such a wet blanket! How could anyone ever like him?!

"Shut _up_ Harry!" Leena snarled, and then pulled Bit close and met him eye to eye. "Here I come, getting up the courage to ask you _out_, and you look at my panties _instead_!"

"Then don't flash them!!" Came the equally arrogant reply. Then his eyes widened as he realised what had just been said. "Wait - _what_ did you just say?!"

"I said I wanted to go out with you." Leena replied, looking down, her cheeks going red, her fingers gently releasing him from their iron grip. Funny how it seemed like such a dumb thing to say. Geez, she had to look _really_ stupid now…

Of course, Biggest Idiot in the World thought she was talking to _him_."You _do_?! Oh _Leena-_" Harry struggled to get out of his entanglement with Bit and push him out of the way, but received a shoe in the face with Leena attached to it. "ARGH!"

There was silence for a moment, apart from the bubbly sound produced by a bleeding nosed Harry (bleeding because of being attacked, not because he thought the idea of Bit and Leena together turned him on. Heaven forbid!) and the blond youth stared in fascination. "Uhh, wow Leena, I had no idea you felt about me in that way." Bit blinked, then grinned in usually cheeky way. "Okay then!"

"Noooooo!!! Please!!"

"Shut up, Harry." Both said, in perfect unison.

Leena stood up carefully and smoothed her skirt down in a shy and very un-Leena like way. "Thanks, Bit. Tomorrow we'll go out to the Blue Moon in NothenGusty, okay? 7pm alright with you?"

"Yeah! Sure!"

And that was that.

~*~

The Redler, gleaming and new, purred as its master climbed up and onto it's back where his 'partner' sat, gazing at the other Zoids. His crimson body glowed slightly from the immense power he had just controlled, putting the ancient Zoid back together, and the power in itself was a delight to feel again. He had been trapped in the Zoid core for too long. "Aye thought she'd nae leave."

"Me too, my old friend." Mute sighed and let himself flop back. The screaming from…what's-his-name…Harry…was still going, and even as the thought crossed his mind, Mute watched the red head run past the hanger and out to his own Zoid, his face streaked with tears. He felt a moment of coldness in his body and sighed wistfully, not sure why he was feeling so damnable. 

The organoid scratched his muzzle and sighed too, voicing his companion's thoughts. "Poor wee shite."

"Mmm…" Mute replied, in a thoughtful way. Only then did he lean against the smooth surface of the organoid and close his eyes, cuddling into it for comfort. He then looked up to stare into the green abysses above him, and the organoid gave him a little nod. 

"Aye've seen tha' look in yer eyes before, Mut'…yer causin' trouble again, ain't yer?" He said, amused.

"I did not appreciate you…or this Zoid asking if you could rip her head off." Mute whispered. There was no need to speak – the two had been bonded as partners for a long, long time, and could read each other as plain as day.

The creature snorted. "Who's? That _witch_?"

"Leena. Leena Toros."

"Nasty little cow." Long talons flexed and the organoid hissed long and low. 

Allowing his slender body to be pulled into a more comfortable position, Mute leaned against the chest plate of the seated organoid and lovingly caressed a forearm. "I simply want to work in peace. Is that so wrong? I know you were just trying to help…but right now, violence is not the way…"

Not wanting to sound like an overprotective parent, the forearms wiggled and the sensors dimmed, showing the organoid's turmoil, the desperate desire to protect, and the pleasure of destruction. "Aye dinna _ken_##, laddie. The last time you decided to meddle wit' the affairs o' men, you ended up bein' sealed away for half a century…do ye want that again?"

Mute's smile was murder as he burrowed into the body he'd known so well over the years. "Ambient, last time, I _wanted_ them to catch me." A twisted, gleeful smile, the kind that was smiled in secret while looking down at a deep pool where something evil slept. "This time…they won't be so lucky."

~ to be continued.

*In real world terms, that'd be track 5 from the Animatrix CD. 

**I know nothing of music. Don't hurt me.

***I really, really hate that term. It drives me up the wall – I don't mean any offence to anyone when I say this, but _I hate that line_. I'm not a big fan of rap music, but damn it…Bling-bling? What kind of a slang term is that? It's in so much music now, which is the only reason I stuck it in. 

# She actually says the letters. Everyone knows it means 'for your information', but I figure she would say it like that. 

## Ambient's saying 'I don't know.' First of all, yes, I have ripped off Zinou's idea, but it's okay because I cleared it first, and second, in the Scottish tongue, know is written ken. So speaking with the accent, it becomes 'Aye dinna ken'. 

_Hahahahahaha!! Oh, you all saw it coming._


	6. Five: No regrets?

_Regardless of rumours, I'm not dead. Merely sleeping. My muse may have returned tho'…_

**Chapter Five**: No regrets?

Polta opened his eyes and stared into the blazing darkness in front of him. There was a beeping to his left, and quickly his mind offered him a vision of the room as he knew it, where everything was in his memory translated to life. His bedroom, his sanctuary, _his home_, the private inner sanctum, the nest, where he'd always felt so safe and secure. Sitting up, he slid his hands over the soft sheets that covered him and to the bedside unit, carefully lifted his visor up and over his eyes, relaxing as his world became bathed in tones of colour. Electricity points became a shining orange, the edges of everything a rich green fading to black around the middle, almost like an ancient videogame. Things on his walls glowed brightly, droplets of different colours splashed across his screen, hauntingly beautiful to his fractured vision, while others sat and wondered about the artist and if they were wearing a straight-jacket while working. To Claude Polta, this queer world of dark and light was his home, and he always felt so comfortable with it.

Sliding out of bed and turning off his alarm clock, he located his clothing (glowing a pale creamy white against the darkness, in varying shades of pastels for different materials) and dressed, getting ready for the day. It was only when he opened the door that he got a big surprise.

His sister was looking back at him.

"Good morning. I was just coming to wake you."

He and Pierce had the same mother but different fathers. It was easy to tell by the colour of their hair – but Pierce's father had been of a darker skin tone than Polta's. Polta still kept _his_ father's last name, regardless of what had happened, and he smiled as his sister hugged him tightly.

"Claude!" She murmured, burrowing into him.

"I wasn't expecting you back for a little while. Everything okay?"

"Kinda." She said, wistfully. She had their mother's beauty. Polta never felt jealous of his amazing younger sister, never, not for her skills, or the fact she was perfect in every way to him. If anyone dared hurt her…he'd kill them. "Just a few strange things here and there."

"Really? Look, my breath isn't that good right now, would you mind if I just brushed my teeth? It won't take a minute, I assure you…"

"Claude!" She playfully punched his arm. He was so much weaker than her…shaking himself a little; he gave her a brittle smile.

"You want breakfast?"

"I'd love to."

"Okay, gimme a minute." Slipping back into his room, Polta gathered up the papers he'd been looking at before he went to sleep that night and placed them back in the file. He never thought, in a million years, that Altile would ever go into battling again. I mean, sure, they were out of BackDRAFT now, and they were working on the old ruins that dotted the place, but for some odd reason, he really, _really_ wanted to be the sponsor of the kid they'd dug up together. The same kid that had dropped off the face of the earth after asking if he could go to the local club and make some money off his guitar. Polta didn't trust him at all, he'd probably run away or something. No matter. They'd find him. Shoving the file under his arm, he decided that it was time to ask for help.

A few minutes later, both he and Pierce were eating breakfast at the little table in his kitchen, exchanging stories about life, the universe, and why dolphins don't try and take over the world. He missed these chats with her, when she was herself and not the person everyone always saw, the so-called bitch, slut, whore. She was none of those things, not Pierce. 

"Claude?"

"Mmm?"

"Something's bothering you. I've never seen you cut your toast into soldiers that small and then not bother to dip them in your egg." 

There was no point in lying to her. "Work problems."

"Really?"

"Yah."

Cocking her head to the side, she blinked. "What kind of problems? You can talk to me Claude. We're on the same side now…"

She was right, but he despised having to talk to her about it. It meant bringing her into things, and who knew where life was going to lead next? Biting his lip, Polta nodded. "Do you remember how…a couple of weeks ago…I said we had gone back in the Zoids circuit?"

"Of course. I've been trying to find out which battles you were in, but-"

"I wasn't piloting. I'm a strategist…it is my strongest point in this line of work. My team…It's Silence. Team Silence."

Pierce's eyes flew wide open and she gasped. "That was _you_?"

"No! Not me…! I told you, I just tell the pilot what to do."

Pierce continued to stare at him. "You were up to the top of class B in _three weeks_. Who the hell was piloting? Not that horrible Vega Obscura, was it? No, it couldn't be…"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Polta's hands brushed against the files. "Pierce…can you keep a secret?"

"Claude…"

"Please…you can't tell anyone."

"Claude, what's happened?" Her delicate hands skittered across the tabletop and caught his own, giving them an affectionate squeeze.

Lowering his voice to try and disguise the tremble that found it's way there, he began: "We found something. That lead…that piece of text in the old Imperial records…the story about a secret facility was all true. Ultimate Xs and everything…"

"You're kidding right?"

"No." Polta opened the file and placed a pair of photographs on the table, one of a youth, the other of a saurian type Zoid. "We managed to get in. It was a facility for testing Zoids all right…and we found something more. There were heaps of designs there, old books, computer data, everything. The place had been sealed from everything, air locked. There was a central dais…and something inside it. We…we opened it. We found him."

"_This_ kid?"

"Our pilot." Running his hands through his hair, Polta winced. "Mute. The only member the team needs. He's…he's a prodigy."

"Like…Vega?"

"Vega's _nothing_ compared to him. He took on three StormSworders with a relic from the old wars and came out without a scratch. He knows Zoids. He talks to them. He controls them."

Pierce's heart gave a flutter. "He…He's an ancient Zoidian?"

That was something they'd considered from the moment they'd laid eyes on him. "It's possible. Or at least, he's linked to them. Maybe he's got a bit of human in him…the facility was in the time of the old wars, and there were three ancient Zoidians found…it's possible he could be their offspring with a human parent…or maybe a grandchild. But why they would seal him away is a mystery…"

"My _god_."

"My thoughts exactly. Only now he's gone missing. I gave him some time off to thank him for all his hard work, and he said he wanted to play at a bar…he likes music. A lot. So he packs up his Zoid, takes his guitar and goes off, but doesn't meet me at the prescribed point. Pierce, _I let him go_. If I don't find him by the time Altile gets back, I'm dead. He's our money spinner…he cares nothing for cash, it's the battle he loves." He looked down at his lap, miserable. "I'm worried about him. He's just a kid. A little naïve, but a kid. I heard a story about a Redler being chased by a couple of Zabats two days ago…what if it was him? I can't help but feel responsible…and if he's hurt…"

"I thought you said he was good at battling."

"In a controlled situation, yeah…" Polta moaned. "But there was a fight at the bar…in a life and death situation, I have no idea as to how he'd react. I asked, and people did say a person fitting his description was in that fight, and did go off in a Redler…"

"You're asking if I've heard or seen anything?"

"You're one of the best Zabat pilots around. People go to you asking for information." Pierce blushed. "If something has happened, I'm pretty sure you'd know about it. If he needs help, I'd like to know where he is. He's my responsibility." 

Pierce nodded. "Well…no one's said anything…but…" She thought hard. "I did hear that the Blitz team were in a battle two days ago. The battle was interrupted by a rival team…things went pretty bad. Someone died…"

"Really?" Polta's face fell. "That's terrible…"

"A Redler was involved, but the media said it was a rival team. That's all I know. I'm sorry."

"Oh…it's okay…" Polta tapped his fingers against his plate, and then dunked the little piece of toast in his still warm egg. "…Well it couldn't have been Mute. He's a loner. Hates working with a team."

"Oh, one of _those_ sorts, eh?"

"Yes." Polta smiled. "Odd kid, but nice. I wonder where he is now…I hope Altile doesn't try to kill me after all of this…He's a great pilot, but geez…"

"I'm sure it's going to be okay. You'll find him."

Polta looked into the eyes of his sister, and wondered if he'd ever be able to see what she really looked like. All people to him were glowing shapes of light, their colours in negative. He could only guess what her true appearance was, and he wouldn't dare take his visor off in daylight. His eyes had been damaged enough. Licten's Disorder only evolved after the extensive use of the Gravity cannon in the massive wars that followed the DeathSaurer's demise, those in close proximity with it were gradually blinded by the chemicals it gave off. It was named after the first person that had contracted the disorder, the warrior Karl Licten Shubaltz, who was killed in action against the invading Zenebas empire. He was…what…thirty-two? A grand old age for a pilot in those days. Anyway, the chemicals had entered people's bodies without them realising it back then, and slowly but surely their genetic information had been contaminated and distorted. Those who lived to tell the tale passed on the defect to their children, and while there was like, one in a million chance of them developing it, it was carried on over the years. While it was nice to think he had the blood of heroes in his veins, Polta knew the reality – they were regular people who'd been tested on without knowing, and had paid the price, with disease that dogged them at every turn. 

But he never let it get him down. Ever. Not in school, not when he was piloting, and certainly never when he was in BackDRAFT. But sometimes…

Pierce smiled at him, in her gentle, loving way. "Claude…you worry too much."

"I can't help it. I have Altile for a boss."

Giggling, Pierce picked up her plate and put it into the sink, letting the water run so she could do the washing up. "I'll check my sources. See if anyone knows about him. Can I take the photo along as well?"

"…Altile will be suspicious."

"Tell him it's for a girly magazine or something. He's been short listed for hottest pilot of the year."

"That picture of him is soddin' awful. It looks like he's a rabbit caught in headlights."

It was true, the little lad looked washed out, with his grey eyes wide and one hand raised to defend himself. It was right after they'd…

…Slowly everything moved back, as time had not hindered the mechanism as much as they had thought. The chill sank into their bones, and there was the ominous crack of ice as the dais lifted, exhibiting the creature it held. Chained, resting, the creature sat, it's metallic hide a rich crimson. There was no doubt about it, both of them had read the history books. This was Ambient, the only organoid in the Age of Discovery to be destroyed. But here he was, whole and somehow pure. Ice clung to his body, but as the warmth of the room penetrated him, he stirred, moaning. Could an organoid moan? This one did. Strange. Twisting as gently as he could, the organoid freed itself from it's bonds, and stared at them. Neither of them knew if he would attack or no, but instead, he yowled and shook. Then reared up, opening the chest cavity and releasing what he had carried inside him for who knew how many years. Then falling, the youth had appeared, bound by wires and pipes that secured him and fed him in his incarceration. The organoid fell where it stood, onto it's side, whining in pain perhaps, or exhaustion. Rolling, talking in tongues, the child had writhed and screamed at the darkness, screamed at the organoid, screamed at them. Then Altile had moved forward, and pulled him away, away from the cold dais that burnt his white skin, pulled him up and then pulled out the camera…

…found him. He shivered again. 

Perhaps, if they'd known what would happen next, they wouldn't have messed with what was left behind. But boy and organoid had happily gone to work for them, only showing their true colours now and then, the cold anger and resentment they had against the world. 

Wherever he was, Polta hoped he was behaving. Because if he wasn't, Altile would come down on him like a tonne of bricks. And Altile was a man you did not cross, not even if you were a Zoidian half breed or whatever. Nosiree.

Mute, where are you?

~ to be continued.


	7. Six: Table set for five

This chapter is dedicated to Rocke&Roll for her lovely idea and her gentle pruning of the original chapter. Without you this could not have happened…oh yes, and Mark Kallan? Be prepared XD XD Now, let's catch up with the reviews you guys left for the chapter/s…

_@Kallan: I'm making Bit a total perv. Most of the time his hormones are exorcised by piloting, but since they've entered a losing streak and aren't fighting so much, then I suppose it's all coming out now…Sorry it took so long ^^_

_@Tilly: Yeshyesh, they are a bunch of sillybillies, but things will be all right in the…oh, what am I saying? *evil laughter* The whole HelloKitty thing stems from an article I read back in one of the old MangaMax issues. One of those sound off things, where the writer is in the industry and has a go at someone or other…anyway, it was talking about her innocence…and how not even certain piercing could tarnish it. I saw a teen angst HelloKitty key ring and really wish I'd been able to buy it X( Damn you Petshop of Horrors…*screams* Don't worry too much about Harry. He won't suffer too much, I just like writing him as a head case. _

_@Paladin Dragoon: Well, Leena wants to see the world. I can guarantee you she'll regret it mind you…and I don't care if you're kidding…it is horrible!! *eyes bleed* I really, really don't like Leena…and I'm glad I've gotten the thumbs up from everyone *waves at Sh33p and Zinou* for the Pierce/Polta thing. Just one of those random ideas that stuck ^^ As for the Mute thing, there are so many things I want to say but I can't! *tremble* Just be patient. Be very patient. I will try to pull things together soon. And look, I simply couldn't leave Ambient out of this…he's too yummerific! (Yummerific? Buh? What did mother put in the stir-fry this night of nights? @.o)_

_@Rocke: You take all the credit, hon'. It was your idea. Like I said before, this fic would have been stuck if you hadn't come through for me. I hope you enjoy this chapter, as Mute is being especially mischievous. I tried to put in some more of what you spoke about *sly grin* hope you like. Plinket! That's a new one! :) I'm glad you liked the chapter after as well, I always felt Polta didn't get enough air time. Aww, what the hell, he was yummerific too. Don't worry about taking so long to review, hell, it takes me an age to write this stuff. I'll try and update again soon…_

_@Aardwulf: Glad you're enjoying the ride! If you've read the rest of my crap on this site you'll know I have a habit of twisting people's perspectives. Harry gets very crazy in this chapter…he has so much damn potential…as for Mute, you can ph33r him if you want, but provided you don't cross him, and sweet talk him with cookies he's a nice guy. Another Ambient-fiend! Yay!_

_@Maelgwyn: Nono, no DeathStinger. It's gone. It ain't comin' back. However, the production model which is around half its' size is available through special stockists, but you need a permit to fight in it as well as have a safety mechanism installed in case you go on a rampage in it – they can just access the core and shut it down :) However, yes, Leena is like one of those damn things. She gets even worse in this chapter. As for the mistakes, I check everything I write twice now. It's a bug in my program when I save it…it's irking me beyond control. Hope you like this one! (and that there's no mistakes in it o.O)_

_@This Guy: Hi there! Well, we have another chapter, hope you like it ^_^ I try to finish my Zoids fics, but sometimes Hybrid is hard…;; Wish me luck!_

_@Taltos: Well, mine was a burnt copy, so I don't have the track listing. Yeshyesh, that was the track ^.^ However, I might add that for universe reasons and such like it was a song that was LIKE Martemot Waves…but not the same thing XD XD Mute is a bit of a dance freak._

_Wow! Now I've replied to each review *gives cookies to all reviewers and a signed piccy of Mute* read on my pretty dears to the next instalment of Hybrid…And yes, it's very scary…_

**Chapter Six**: Table set for five

"_Garçon_!" 

"Mute, shut _up_."

"Sorry Brad, but I'm bloody starving. I had no breakfast, too busy fixing your stupid Zoid."

"The FOX isn't stupid!"

"'Tis."

"T'isn't!"

"'Tis."

"_No it'isnt_!!!"

"Shut _up_ you two. Are they here yet?"

It had been the Doc's idea. There was sometimes reasonable doubt as to wether the man was sane or no, but occasionally rational thought broke through. Or perhaps it was disguised over-protective father syndrome, either way, sitting in the Blue Moon was a rather ratty Brad, a starving Mute and a neurotic Harry who was (surprisingly) taking control for once. In a few minutes the game would be on and they'd have to keep an eye on things.

Brad didn't mind this. While Harry had come along for the ride, it wasn't _quite_ as bad as he had first thought. He was getting to know the newest member on the team, someone who understood the value of a good Zoid, one's personal score _and_ the value of perving on the opposite sex. He suspected that the only reason Mute was being disagreeable was because he was hungry – the boy needed some meat on him really. Only a half an hour earlier he'd been praising the FOX and its battle capabilities, the ride to the café had been long and fraught with red lights, stupid people, and one very sorry mime artist. The waiter bustled over to them and gave them the sort of 'yeah, you're customer but I don't have to like you' sort of look that became a genuine smile when Mute turned on the charm.

Bleedin' hell.

Brad stared in horror – it was Terry. Terry the Terror. The scourge of customers everywhere, who got orders wrong, made food arrive cold, and still, somehow, got a tip from you. Mute wouldn't stand a chance! He went to grab him, stop him from wasting his precious charm but-

"Hi there, it's such a great day, isn't it?! Great place you got here…worked long?"

Caught off guard, he watched the waiter twitch and fight with his own confusion. "…Uh, a year…"

"Ohh, you're studying. I get it. Must be hard balancing those two…"

"Well yeah…how did you know?"

"You're too young to be in this job" Mute grinned. "'Sides, I did that for a bit myself. Sorry for being so nosy and all…Look, I'm sorry to bother you with my order, because I can see you're in need of a rest, but it's still quiet. I could really do with one of your famous chicken burgers, hold the salad and the mayo' but with extra cheese, and a side order of chips. Plenty of gravy; can't have chips without gravy…Ohh, and a lemonade. Diet. Watching my weight." He finished with a coquettish smile and a bat of his eyelids. 

Brad could only stare. It wasn't every day that Terry the Terror was lost for words and actually pandering to a customer. Terry was kept around because he was good with the accounts, and was able to get people to pay without too much of a fuss, simply because if the person wasn't happy with their meal and weren't going to pay, there would be some _horrible_ scratches on their _shiny new_ zoid/car/bicycle/wheelchair, _and no one would own up_. News like Terry got around. Even Brad himself wouldn't bother him. Clearly impressed by Mute's reaction to the death glare and the huffs of anger, he decided to say nothing, to see what would happen. 

What _did_ happen was quite a surprise.

Terry fumbled for words, his eyes bugging out as he sought to get his mouth under control, and he gulped noisily.  "_Yes_ sir."

Bleedin' _hell_. No sarcasm. No snide remarks. Terry was _not_ himself.

Scrambling to fill the silence, Brad gave a hoarse laugh and shook his head. "Mute, you need to put it _on_, not keep it _off_. Uhh…Guess I'm peckish myself…" He looked at the menu and tried to think hard about what he should have, trying to ignore the warning throb of his injuries., and the fact that at any time Terry might snap back into bastard-mode again.

Mute made a strange noise in the back of his throat and grinned at the open and confused face of their waiter. "…Terry, is it? May I call you Terry, or does that bother you? Okay, Terry, what would you suggest for my companion? We're all here to keep an eye on a pair of friends of ours, if you know what I mean…setting up people is an exact science, you know…and Brad here…needs a meal."

"The ham and cheese on the Turkish Bread is good. The bread is lovely and fresh, we just got it in…" Terry blurted out, as if it were his first day on the job and he wanted to make a good impression. "We can toast it as well, it makes the cheese all melty and lovely…"#

Did Brad notice the strange smile on Mute's face? Clearly enjoying running rings around diner enemy number one. He carefully folded his menu and nodded. "Okay, I'll go on your recommendation. Harry, you want to order?"

Oblivious, Harry continued to kneel on the booth's seat, his stomach against the back and peering around the other booths. "…?"

"What do you want to eat, Harry?"

"I don't know." The youth replied, blankly. "I'm looking for Leena."

Brad rolled his eyes. "Same for him. Both of 'em toasted. And, uh, let's see…a coke. I need the caffeine. Harry too."

"You sure?" Mute asked with a smirk. "We don't want him _too_ hyper."

"I can handle it." Brad replied, a little defensively. 

"Suuure." Mute flopped back, and gave Terry a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. "As the man says. Thank you ever so much, Terry, a bright spark like you has lit up my day. There's a distressing lack of nice people in the world in this day and age…so expect a tip with my bill. You shall be _rewarded_."

Terry, grinning almost as wide as Mute was but much more vacant, walked off, feeling like something had happened but he wasn't sure what. Brad, however, felt something different. He was starting to feel uncomfortable. Apart from that, he'd never really liked cafes, being more of a home-cooked person. You could tell if the food had been spat on at home, because you were the one doing the spitting.

Harry slouched back against the desk and glared at the saltshaker, which didn't deserve it. With a snort, he poked it, then reached out for a menu, and looked over it. "We going to order or what?"

Sometimes, Brad really _wondered_.

He stared at Harry, and as Mute burst out laughing, Brad buried his face in his hands and looked at redhead from between his fingers. "Harry, we just _did_."

"Huh?"

"You were to busy thinking over what was going to happen. You're having a hot ham and cheese sandwich, okay?" _Talk slowly so he'd understand._ Brad thought. "Is that okay, or does that bother you?"

Harry stared at him as if he had two heads. "Uhh, _fine_…But I don't remember ordering it."

"You didn't. We did." Mute cut in, still sniggering a little.

"Then what am I ordering?!"

Brad sighed. "Shut up Harry."

With a growl, Harry stood up with a flourish and struck a pose. He was really, _really_ embarrassing sometimes…but the poor bastard meant well. Any fool could see that. "You can't tell me to shut up! I'll have you know that I'm destined to be the King!"

"King of what, Harry?" Mute asked. 

Lost for a moment and with the wind out of his brightly coloured sails, Harry simply stared at the lithe mechanic and scratched the back of his head. "I…I don't know."

"Well, maybe you should find out." Sniffing slightly, Mute relaxed back into the plush bench and surveyed the scene in front of him with the air of arrogance Brad usually associated with rich people. And cats. It was very unusual, and very unsettling to say the least, considering he was broke and had the sex appeal of a mop##. Nonetheless, he leaned on the table and looked over his own enfolded hands, wondering how to start the conversation.

Brad was a simple man. He wondered about his own interests, personal wealth, battling, and the odd sexual experience, but how could he talk about these things with a pair of guys who had probably never had a woman in their bed (Mute, while seeming to give off that vibe, most likely hadn't) and one was impossibly rich, the other bloody poor. And neither of them had shown considerable battle experience. At least, not while being conscious in Mute's position. What the hell could someone say?

Brad could be an amazingly boring and conceited person.

As was Mute, but he could hide it better.

A mischievous grin touched his features, and he purred softly. "What an interesting development this is. Bit Cloud and Leena Toros. It does not sound like a match made in heaven, yet here we are…"

Oh, Brad thought. Of course. The date. One of the eight wonders of the world – if this could be pulled off, pigs might fly… 

"It'll never work out." Harry muttered. "They're like chalk and cheese! Like…like other stuff that doesn't go together!"

"Oil and water. Helic and Guylos. Zoidians and humans."

"Yeah…uh, what did you just say? Are you making fun of me?! Me and Leena, who will one day be married?! What the hell did you say?!" Harry snapped, completely on the defensive. His devotion to Leena was embarrassing, Brad thought, poking his napkin.

"Nothing, nothing." Mute yawned as he waited for Harry to stop whinging. "I hope they hurry up with the food."

With a soft sigh, Brad stopped molesting his napkin and looked up, locking eyes with the young redhead. Harry blinked at him but stared back, unafraid, almost…challenging. Ordinarily he would be going red and looking away, but today, it seemed, he was being a big brave boy and was ready for anything. Brad realised there was hope for him yet. "Harry, promise me you won't do anything stupid." He remarked calmly. "Please?"

"Of course I won't, I'll just do something to stop Leena from making the biggest mistake of her life!"

There was a snort from Mute, who was clearly enjoying annoying Harry. "What, going out with _you_?"

"Why is everyone against me?" Harry snapped as he thumped the table in his anger. "I try and act friendly, yet everyone seems to think I'm out to get them!"

Brad buried his face in his hands, trying to formulate an answer that would not offend the young Champ. He …just…a little messed up. "Harry, you cause trouble wherever you go. You ask us to go into battles for Leena's affection when it's _obvious_ the only person she loves is _herself_. You think money is the answer to everything, which it's not, no matter how much your parents tell you it is. The world isn't _against_ you, it's just _ignoring_ you."

"No! Everybody _hates_ me!" Harry wailed. 

"I'm not against you. I'm against your fashion sense." Mute cut in, giving them both a dark look. "Harry, we both want this evening over as quick as possible, so just sit tight, enjoy your meal, and we see what happens next…it's not that hard." He smiled at them both in a warm and genuine way, and Harry sighed, settling down in a forlorn way.

"Sorry." He moaned. "It's just…I mean I…"

"We're just here to make sure that Bit doesn't take things too far, and that Leena doesn't do too much damage to Bit, the patrons, or heaven forbid, the restaurant itself. If I catch either of you playing silly buggers, I will do something very horrible to the two of you." Mute said, quite sweetly. 

You could believe it too. For a moment at least, but Brad shook it off and scanned the restaurant again, wondering when their order would come, because he was hungry and thirsty. Almost as if on cue, he spied Terry returning with a slightly glazed look on his face, complete with drinks. 

"Food will be here in another five minutes!" He said cheerfully, and then went away again, clearly sweating heavily. What was that boy's problem?

Leaning back, Brad sipped his drink and enjoyed the acrid taste. Maybe things would be okay tonight…provided, of course, that the other two behaved themselves. Harry was sucking furiously at the sickly pink straw, his bright eyes jerking here and there like a rabid ferret, his mind _clearly_ on things other than said drink in front of him. Mute…Mute looked _tired_. Worn all of a sudden. Yawning tiredly, he sipped his drink too, smacked his lips, and rested his head against his hands as he gazed into space. 

"Mute, are you okay?"

At first he didn't respond, but he blinked tiredly and gave Brad a brittle smile. "Kinda. Just have a headache brewing, that's all."

"But you seemed fine a minute ago…"

"I didn't get much sleep the other night, that's all." Mute's smile warmed. "Thank you for your concern, mind you…I appreciate it."

"Too much noise, eh?"

"No…just…having trouble sleeping."

Their food came a moment later, concern was forgotten, and indeed, the food smelt fantastic. Brad's stomach growled loudly in impatience as he started to tuck into his food, eager to quieten the beast that raged within. However, the beast that raged _outside_ had suddenly spotted the object of his affection waltzing in to the café in a pretty strappy number complete with floaty bits* with one of those shoestring purses dangling at her side. They sat down and made their order, then began the customary conversation of two people who have no idea what to say. But Leena was flirting…either that, or that flower thingie attached to her strap was itchy. 

Brad swallowed hard. Not because Leena looked especially attractive, but because he knew how much all of that had _costed_. He'd been dragged along with Naomi to shops before, and out of curiosity investigated the price tags and then dragged his companion kicking and screaming from the place in mortal fear of being declared bankrupt after one swipe of his bankcard. Harry was making similar choking noises, but _probably_ because of her looks…but it then again, it _was_ possible he was actually choking…it was so hard to tell…

Mute was unaffected by the entrance. Dipping a chip in the gravy, he ate it thoughtfully, and then casually thumped Harry hard in the back. A piece of bread went flying out of his mouth and hit the guy in the booth next to him in the back of his head, making him yelp.

"What the-?"

"Leeeeeeena!!"

"Harry! You'll blow our cover!"

Too late. 

Scrambling over the table, Harry lunged towards Leena, and Brad howled as his dinner was also sent flying. Only just able to catch it in time, he heard the yells from the booth behind as the chap who'd got caught in the head with Harry's mouthful gave chase and grabbed Harry in the shoulder to spin him around. This was clearly not the thing to do.

"Oi, you, _apologise_!"

Brad cringed. Harry…oh, Harry, Harry, Harry…the boy was a powder keg waiting to _explode_. Years of growing up in such a rich and privileged household as the youngest meant a lot of things had been dumped on the red head. His desperate need to succeed had all come from one source, his older siblings above him striving towards the stars. And when he'd set his sights on Leena, he had believed, quite firmly, that he had met his soul mate. Of course, the poor sod was hopelessly wrong, but all that hoping and wishing had built up inside him over the year or two he had known her. Then Bit came on the scene. Bit who was brilliant at everything, except personal hygiene. Bit, who had done nothing but drift.

Harry _snapped_.

"Take your _filthy_ hands off me, _peasant_!" He screamed. "While your _father_ was _rolling your mother_ in the dirt, _my_ father was building _a bloody empire_! Building a _future_ for his children and for his _children'_s children! I will _not_ apologise to someone with a room temperature IQ, a distressing smell of cleaning chemicals and a _handlebar moustache that looks incredibly suspect_!!" He took a breath. It was _clearly_ a mistake!! I was choking, _you horrible, horrible little man_!!"

The man was by no means little. But he did smell, and he did have a suspect moustache. He also looked hurt. "Now look 'ere, there's no need fo-"

"Ohhhh, so you're going to back out now, are you?! Well good for you! _Sit down_!" The man complied, his eyes very wide. I might also add that he could easily snap Harry's wiry body in two and use him for a toothpick, had the temperament of a rabid Rottweiler, and was head of the local biker gang**, but he had a survival streak a mile wide and could see that Harry was clearly on the warpath.

Terry, on the other hand, could not.

As Brad watched in horror, speechless as the tiny stick screaming at the massive tree and getting it to do what it wanted, Terry stormed up to Harry's side and intercepted him just as he approached the table of Bit and Leena. 

"Hi! I'm Terry, your waiter for this evening…welcome to the Blue Moon!" He said cheerfully as he strangled Harry from behind.

"Harry?! What the hell are you doing here?!" 

"No, it's Ter-"

"Shut up, idiot!" Leena stood up and put her hands on her hips. "Harry, what are you doing?!"

"Stopping you from doing a really, really stupid thing!"

"What, ordering the salad?" Bit butted in. Brad cringed. He really, _really_ didn't know when to keep his fat mouth shut. "Shove off Harry."

"NooaaaAAAAARRRRGGG!!" Twisting violently, Harry tried to back away from Leena, who had reached out and grabbed his ear. Another vicious twist and he was putty in her hands. 

"Outside, mister." She snarled.

"BRAAAAAAAAAD!!! MUUTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!! SAVE MEEEEE!!"

"Enjoy, old son." Mute sang back, putting down his burger and toasting Harry with his glass. 

Brad turned bright red and slid down his seat until his nose was level with the tabletop. How embarrassing. How utterly embarrassing. Thank God Naomi wasn't here, that's all he could say. Nonetheless, listening to the yelps and howls outside as Harry was bashed into a mushy pulp were pitiful and sad. After all, he was only trying to…well, win her affection…

"Is life always this interesting for the Blitz team?"

"No." The food came to the now Leena-less table. Brad took a little bite of his meal and watched Bit settle down and eat his. Well, eating was a roundabout word…more like inhaling it. Pizza sandwich maybe, hard to tell, because one minute it was there, the next it was gone. 

"Oh. 'Cos I was considering staying. Fancy a chip?"

"Yah." Brad reached across, missed, and then sat up as Mute pushed the plate across. Wow, he'd eaten a lot. Brad glanced at him for a moment, but only received a happy but sleepy look in return. "You okay?"

"Just happy being well fed. Doc doesn't keep much food on the base."

With a sigh, the taller of the two pointed in the direction of the dizzy blond pilot, as he started eating Leena's salad and steak with great delight. "Bit."

"I see." Mute grinned. "Not just a pilot but a bottomless pit…"

"Hah. Yeah. That's him all right." Brad smiled sadly. "Which reminds me, where the hell did you put all of that?"

"All of what?"

"Your dinner! You're as skinny as a rake!"

A shrug was all the reply he got. "Metabolism?"

"I'm envious."

His answer was strangely tinged with regret. "Don't be." A pause. "Here comes trouble."

Trouble was indeed coming. Leena waltzed in, looking flushed as she rubbed her fist, but happy. People leaned away from her as she came in, almost afraid to eat lest they provoke her temper. Chairs moved, even a table was shoved to the side at the expense of the wine the couple had been drinking, colouring the nice white tablecloth a rich burgundy. Leena thought it was her looks. You could tell. She looked so _smug_. However, that smug and happy look faded when she reached her table. 

She'd seen her plate.

Her _empty_ plate.

"BIIIIIIIIIT!!"

She swiped at him, but he ducked away, still nibbling on some lettuce. He smiled at her in his usual vacant way and swallowed. "Back from pounding Harry?"

"BIT, YOU ATE MY FOOD!"

"It was just _sitting_ there, Leena…" He batted his eyelashes. "It looked lonely."

"ARGH!!" Spinning around, Leena caught sight of some helpless waiter who had been trying to escape, grabbed him by the shoulder, and yanked him close. "Another beef and salad, creep. And Bit, you'd better be payin', or I'm going to tear you a new pie-hole."

"Yeah sure, whatever. Hey, speaking of pie…"

"NO."

Sweating in her grasp, the waiter proved he had about as much survival sense as road kill. "A-and how w-would m-madam like her st-steak?"

"Torn of a cow, cooked, then slapped on a freakin' plate you moron. How else d'you think I want it?!"

"Long, wet and hard." A cultured voice piped up. Brad didn't see Mute's lips move, but the grin proved the Blitz team's temporary mechanic had more talents to add to his disposal. Apart from having numerous ideas for throwing one's voice in daily life, Brad gawked and watched Leena drop the waiter and stomp towards a rather weedy young thing that was trying to eat his meal in peace but had suddenly realised the eyes of the world were on him and he's just won a one-way ticket to Painsville.

In a primordial growl as old as time, Leena caught his attention. "_What_ did you just _say_?"

Brad's jaw dropped. Leena picking _another_ fight? He went to stand, to try and stop it, just like the Doc has asked, but found himself unable to. His body was unwilling to move, as if his bones were made of jelly and couldn't support his flesh, and he slipped back into his seat, his look of horror only intensifying. But it all felt better when Mute winked at him and patted his hand in a friendly way that was kind of disturbing but nice at the same time. He was right – after all, what could Brad do, apart from hoping no one else would get hurt? Really?

This guy knew trouble when it was staring at him in the face. "…Uh…nothing…" He whispered, trying to edge away. It was not enough.

"_Outside_." Came the cold command.

A couple of minutes later, the Leena's dinner was served again. 

And a couple of minutes later, it was gone. Bit sat back with a contented grin on his face and his hands patting his distended belly with pleasure. However, it was followed by a look of discomfort, and for a horrible moment Brad thought Bit was going to be sick, all over the table. 

But ohhhhhh, no.

He undid the top button of his jeans, untucked and undid the bottom three buttons of his shirt, and settled back once more, pausing only for a moment to belch incredibly loud and grin at everyone, as if expecting praise.

And once more, Brad felt his cheeks heating with shame. Just think…the night was only really beginning. "Shoot me now." He moaned.

Because Leena had just come in once more.

"BiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!"

~ to be continued.

#Or yummerific. I think that's my new word for the day.

## I don't know if Brad's jealous or if the other characters do not feel the same attraction my beloved reviewers do. Nah, he's jealous. Someone's vying for his position of the 'really cool guy the fangirls/boys like' and Brad doesn't like it…

*Like men, I have little knowledge of fashion especially the new fangled stuff that can be worn as a top and a pair of underpants respectively since they're so short. Fashion and I don't get on too well.

**I know this is very stereotypical. Most bikies are actually really nice people.


End file.
